Lady in Waiting
by Crystal Dawn
Summary: During the Heian era, when mystical beasts roamed the Imperial Palace grounds, one such creature and one of the Princess' ladies in waiting have a fateful meeting... AU, of course!
1. Chapter 1: The Month of Unohana

**Title:** Lady in Waiting, Chapter 1 - The Month of Unohana

**Warnings:** AU, het (IchiHime), historical geekery

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. The LiveJournal format that you'll probably be reading this in (if you're one of my friends) is rough draft and is subject to revision. Consider this a 'sneak peek'. If something sits the wrong way with you, let me know. This will probably (never) be updated weekly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Note:** I decided to work on this at the same time as The Devil's Plaything! I liked the idea so much that I couldn't get it out of my head! Anyway, as this is set in the Heian era, footnotes are actually necessary. Because this site doesn't like them as much as Microsoft Word, they're denoted with a number inside parentheses, and are at the bottom of the story. Anyway, if you'd like further reading on this era, The Tale of Genji and the Pillowbook of Sei Shonagon are both great places to start. 'Forced Affections' is also a good essay on the topic of romance in Heian era Japan, although I can't really link it in the body of the story. For the moment, though, please enjoy this fic!

* * *

It happened sometime in the beginning of the Fourth Month, the month of the Unohana flower. (1)

One warm day, after having observed the daily comings and goings of palace life over the course of the past couple of years, a young kirin decided that he would get a closer look. So, shedding his deer-like animal form in favor of that of a young man of the Outer Palace Guard, he climbed a bushy, low-hanging tree in the western courtyard of the Imperial Princess' palace and waited patiently.

Had he decided to disguise himself as a regular man of rank, he wouldn't have chanced standing out so much. Were he to be seen, though, it would've been a much greater spectacle than as a regular guard; he couldn't confess to knowing enough about men of rank to be able to impersonate one. As it was, though, the red cloak of the guard uniform was hidden by the thick foliage of the tree anyway, so it wasn't of much concern at the moment.

Of course, he was going to stand out anyway. His bright, short-cropped red hair would never be fashionable in a court full of men with long black hair. Likewise, his brusque manner and customary scowl would have been considered quite unpleasant and off-putting. Even his given name, Ichigo, would have earned him his fair share of scorn for its unusual nature. It was far better for him to remain hidden than to expose himself to humans; he would be content to watch them from afar as he was now.

Towards the end of the first quarter of the tenth watch (2), when the sun was starting to drift lower in the sky, they emerged into the courtyard. It was the Princess - the Emperor's younger sister - and her ladies in waiting. They floated around the grounds like a shoal of brightly colored fish, resplendent in their multicolored robes and hakama, chattering unguardedly with one another. They were color coordinated with the season and with each other, their costumes the differing shades of green of new foliage.

As for their faces and hair, there was a fair variety; most had let their lustrous black hair grow as far down their backs as they could manage, but two in particular stood out. One had wavy golden hair trailing down the back of her light green kazami, and a cheerful, open countenance. Her eyebrows were plucked in the customary fashion, but her up-turned, wide, sparkling blue eyes were a contrast to the dark, narrow eyes of her companions. Although most of the other court ladies would disagree, Ichigo thought she was fairly charming.

The other, however, caught his attention and kept it. This one had long, straight hair a few shades darker than his and large, smiling amber eyes. Although he couldn't quite hear their conversation, the animated way in which she spoke was apparent even at his distance. With the way everyone seemed to pay attention when she spoke, he assumed she must be the Princess Imperial. When her companions laughed at her antics, though, he took note that not all of them seemed to be doing so in good humor.

A small stab of defensiveness struck Ichigo then. In the short time he'd been watching the girls, the lively redhead had stood out as his favorite. It irritated him that some of the other girls seemed to be mocking her. It irritated him even more that she didn't seem to mind or even notice.

And then, after another quarter of a watch, just as the sun was beginning to set, they began to head back inside. The ladies drifted back to their veranda and inside the palace at a leisurely pace until finally the redhead was left to trail behind and bring up the rear. Instead of mounting the wooden deck and going inside, though, she stopped and turned towards the tree on the far side of the courtyard. For a second, Ichigo could've sworn the girl was staring straight at him, blinking in confusion. His heart caught in his throat - had he been spotted? But no; she turned after a second to head back into the palace, shaking her head.

Ichigo released the breath he'd been holding. He felt a surge of relief, as well as a tiny stab of disappointment. Sure, he'd gotten away with accidentally spying on the girls and he should feel relieved for that, but part of him had wanted the pretty redheaded girl to notice him, too. It was a foreign feeling to him, to be sure. It had been many years since he'd last interacted with humans, let alone cared about the approval of one.

In fact, Ichigo was so relieved at not being seen that he let his grip go slack on the branch he was holding. Before he knew it, he'd lost his balance and was falling headlong to the ground, snapping twigs and branches all along the way down. He hit the grassy turf with a loud crash, a tangle of red robes, leaves, legs, and arms landing in a heap beneath the bushy tree.

As he sat up and rubbed the quickly-swelling lump on his head, he was mortified to realize that the redheaded girl had not only seen that embarrassing fall, but was now rushing over to him. He swore inwardly, a more colorful string of words probably never having fallen upon that girl's ears.

"Are you alright, Guard-san?" she cried, coming to rest beside him on the ground and kneeling to get a better look at him. Ichigo fought the urge to bolt; this was exactly the type of situation he'd hoped to avoid. He even flinched when she reached out to touch the knot on his forehead.

"I'm... I'm fine," he croaked, his voice unused to human speech after not having been used for so long. Ichigo was sure he was blushing now; his cheeks felt hot as he stared openly at the girl's lovely face. "Don't concern yourself with me, Your Highness." The girl cocked her head, giving him an adorably confused look.

"Highness?" she echoed back at him, her bottom lip puckering in a small pout.

"You're the Princess Imperial, aren't you?" Ichigo asked, suddenly fearing he'd guessed wrong after all. The girl blinked for a moment before giggling behind her sleeve. Her laugh reminded him of the tinkling of glass or the shell rattles the priests used during the holy festivals.

"Oh no!" she replied cheerily, "You must be new, huh? Rukia-hime is the Princess - I'm just one of her ladies in waiting." Ichigo's cheeks still burned as she giggled at his folly.

"Err, yeah," he said sheepishly, seizing the opportunity she'd given him, "I'm new here. Just got here this week. Brand new recruit. I'm... I'm Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo." He hoped that was enough of a reason that she wouldn't question why he didn't introduce himself with his rank; even though he'd observed the court denizens for years, he still couldn't figure out their ranking system.

"I'm Inoue no Orihime," she said sweetly, giving him a charming smile. But suddenly, Orihime blinked as a distressed look washed over her face. The redheaded girl began looking around her robes frantically for something. Ichigo watched her curiously as she checked her wide sleeves and made small, frustrated noises.

"Oh no!" she cried, before finally finding the long, slender object she'd been seeking, "Oh, thank goodness! I completely forgot!" Her voice had lost none of its immediate worry, but as she snapped the fan open in front of her face, Ichigo could tell she had visibly relaxed.

"Your... You forgot your fan?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yes!" she answered, fretting behind the green and gold silk and wood, "You're not supposed to see my face! I-If anyone saw us talking like this, they would say horrible things!" Ichigo's brows knitted together in confusion. Sure, he'd witnessed the ladies hiding behind their fans from time to time, but he figured that was just some kind of coy game. As he thought on it, though, he did realize that he'd rarely seen men with them behind their curtains of state when they were in the palace. When they were out on the grounds, they never included men in their walking parties.

"Is it that bad?" he replied, more than a bit frustrated that he could no longer talk directly to her. She lowered her fan for a second, looking at him shyly over the tips of the frame before raising it again to cover her eyes.

"You must really be from the country," Orihime responded quietly, "Men aren't supposed to be able to see us unless we invite them behind our curtains of state. And even then, we're really not supposed to. But I hear Rangiku-san talk about it with the other girls sometimes."

"Y-Yeah," Ichigo seized her offering quickly, "I'm from the country. I didn't know any of that." Country, forest, same difference, right? Besides, he had never noticed anything like that with his own mother and sisters, and they were human as well. But again, they were related to him and were quite well secluded in the countryside. He had also been quite a bit younger the last time he'd seen them.

"I... I should go," she replied hesitantly, "If I'm gone any longer, people will start to talk." Realizing she intended him to rise before her and help her up, Ichigo got to his feet and dusted himself off.

"Here," he said unceremoniously, jabbing an outstretched hand in Orihime's direction. She took it, her hand delicate and small in his larger, warmer one. As she rose, she kept a desperate hold on the fan in her other hand, being careful now not to let it slip again.

"Thank you, Kurosaki-kun," she replied graciously, reluctantly releasing his hand and smoothing her hakama and skirts out, "Maybe... Maybe I'll see you when you're on patrol from now on?"

Ichigo's ears perked at this. She wanted to see him again? Well, if he was going to pretend to be a guard, why not go all out? He struck down the idea as soon as it had formed, though. No, it wouldn't do to go sneaking about the palace, getting attached to human girls. Still, he couldn't bring himself to give her any answer but a positive one.

"Sure," he said, a small smile forming on his lips, "I'll come check up on you sometime." Although he couldn't see her face, Orihime seemed pleased with this answer and practically bounced as she turned back towards the veranda.

"I look forward to it!" she replied happily before making her way quickly back to the deck. Her robes fluttered out around her, flapping at her extra activity in a way that would've been scandalous had anyone witnessed it but Ichigo.

As for the young redheaded kirin, an unfamiliar feeling welled within his chest. For years he'd studiously avoided human contact, instead opting to keep to the edges of the palace and watch them all from a distance. The one time his curiosity had finally gotten the better of him, of course he'd run into a girl that would cause him to want to rejoin human society on some level. Part of him wanted to pull his hair out, but another, small part of him was excited, even _eager_, to see what this girl had to offer him.

Ichigo sighed, taking the opportunity to switch back into a purely stag-like form in the descending twilight before heading out into the forest for a nice run.

* * *

"It's true, Tatsuki-chan!"

The girl with the shoulder-length hair shook her head over her teacup. Orihime fretted at her skeptical look, wondering why she didn't seem to believe her story about the guard in the tree.

"It's not like I watch the guards every second of the day," Tatsuki said, "But I'd definitely notice one with hair _that_ bright. And short! Are you sure you didn't imagine it?"

They had retired to Orihime's room, moving the curtain of state to the northern end of the room. The sliding door that was set into the north wall opened onto the veranda; a simple bamboo blind was drawn up to let the cool evening air into the room. As it was dark outside and the opening faced the northern courtyard, there was little chance of them being seen from outside. Even if someone should chance by the veranda, they couldn't enter the room from the northern end anyway, nor could Orihime exit from that avenue; it was considered extremely unlucky.

"But this isn't like the time with the tanuki or the kappa!" Orihime protested, recalling some earlier conversation, "I actually spoke to him! And he's really shy and coarse - he said he came from the countryside!" A blush dusted her cheeks as she recounted a portion of their conversation to Tatsuki; any of the other ladies would probably disagree, but she had thought his rough scowl and harsh voice were charming. She could imagine him apprehending villainous bandits with ease, heroically saving imperiled ladies and children from danger, and getting rewarded for valor by the Emperor himself.

"Orihime," Tatsuki chided, her plucked eyebrows knitting together, "That's not good, either. You're a lady of the sixth rank - some country bumpkin guard recruit is way beneath you. Especially one that doesn't have the good sense to be polite in the palace." Even though her words scolded, Orihime could tell that it was out of genuine concern for her welfare. Still, they gave her some distress.

"I know," she said, her voice reflecting some shame, "I just feel bad for him. He seemed so out of place, and I know he'll get teased for his hair..." Tatsuki's face reflected her own worry; Orihime herself was often shunned for her hair color around the court. Although she tried not to let on like it bothered her, Tatsuki knew better, and could often be found snidely taking some of the other ladies down a peg or two when they belittled her good-natured friend. Fortunately, most of it was kept away from the Princess Imperial, who adored Orihime.

"You're too soft-hearted for your own good," Tatsuki said, sighing fondly as she patted her best friend on the head, "Just don't encourage him, okay? You could do way better than some guard with bad manners from the sticks."

"Alright," the redhead said sheepishly, the blush still spread over her face, "But I'm not really interested in the gentlemen here..." Tatsuki gave her a mischievous wink and grinned at her over her teacup.

"Not even Masataka?" she asked slyly, "What about Yukinori? Lots of the other girls are crazy over them."

"Tatsuki-chaaaan!"

Unbeknownst to the two young ladies, a silent visitor hovered just beyond their veranda. Had they looked past their blinds, they may have seen him; but as he made no sound and disturbed no blade of grass as he walked, the chances of them noticing him were slim.

Having nearly exhausted himself with his run through the bordering forests, Ichigo had picked his way back to the palace grounds before coming to stop in the northern courtyard. He hadn't _meant_ to eavesdrop on the girl he'd met earlier; indeed, it was wholly coincidental that he should be minding his own business, eating fresh grass in the palace courtyards when he overheard her now-familiar voice. Having heard her voice, he found himself drifting closer, almost of his hooves' own accord.

At his current vantage point, then, he could see beneath Orihime's half-raised blinds. She was turned in profile towards her friend, whose face he could also see. This gave him a tiny bit of perverse delight in circumventing social restrictions; when he spoke to her as a man from here on out, she'd be careful to conceal her face from him. But in this form, even if she were to turn directly towards him, she'd only see a stag.

Not that it would be any less surprising. Ichigo was unlike any deer Orihime would have ever seen. He was no smaller than a large buck, but his coloring was all different; the tan hide that deer were known to have was covered in a blaze of reddish-gold spots, almost resembling the scales of a fish. Instead of branching into separate points, his horns twisted straight back from his forehead in twin spires. Instead of a deer's regular abrupt tail, Ichigo's looked more like a lion's, whipping his hindquarters with the small tuft at the end. And as for his neck, it was covered in a thick red mane, not at all different from the color of his human hair.

So it was in this state that Ichigo lingered outside Orihime's open balcony, mulling over his predicament. He was curious about her and frustrated at that curiosity. He didn't want to become mixed up with humans, as animalistic as he was, yet there he stood, eager at the prospect of speaking to one again. Worse than that, when he finally _had_ decided to pursue that inclination, it occurred to him that it would involve more than just speaking to the girl herself. There was no way he could rely on chance to see her again. Sure, she might take a walk outside in the courtyard sometime or another, but that would mean navigating the flock of girls that were bound to be with her. Not just that, but there was no telling when that would be - he might catch her tomorrow, or it might be a month from now.

Seeing her alone in her room was almost too great a prospect to even entertain. To start with, he had no idea what the protocol was for visiting a girl in her room; he was just as likely to make a fool of himself and earn her scorn as to have another pleasant conversation with her, he figured. And from the way her friend talked, it wasn't as if his human form would even be particularly welcome. His hair and face would draw attention, even if his actions did not.

Worse yet, he knew very well that there was a powerful, prodigious onmyouji (3) somewhere on the premises; he had sealed that open northern veranda against creatures such as himself, for instance, and that was the least of his powers. Every supernatural creature he'd come into contact with on the palace grounds had spoken of him; a proud, stern young man who had risen to the top of the palace's Ministry of Divination at a very young age. This phenomenal man was even said to have been descended from Abe no Seimei himself (4). Some of those creatures spoke of him in terms of anger, some in awe. Either way, he brooked no misbehavior by spirits or creatures on the palace grounds whatsoever. And while Ichigo knew humans generally saw kirin as lucky, benevolent creatures, he still had no desire to cross the onmyouji. It would be more trouble than it was worth.

Still, the barrier on Orihime's outside wall meant that the only way in for Ichigo would be through the interior doorway. Which meant he would have to enter the palace itself. Which meant using his human form to walk amongst humans. It was a nerve-wracking proposition, to be sure, and left a bitter taste in Ichigo's mouth. In fact, he was so busy scowling and being irritated over it that he failed to notice the bluish-gray swish of fur cross the wooden veranda in front of him.

"What's with that sappy look, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo shook his head, his mane whipping the sides of his neck as he looked up. The creature on the balcony was a sleek, almost silver cat, its piercing sea-green eyes boring into Ichigo with barely disguised mischief. Unlike the average cat, however, this one swished two tails about his legs. He could also, of course, communicate in the human tongue and stand on his hind legs. When reared up in that manner, he was almost half the height of a human. And although Ichigo had never seen it, he knew full well that the creature before him, a nekomata, was capable of disguising himself as a human as well.

"Since when is the way I look any of your business, Grimmjow?" he asked sourly. Not only was the cat's intrusion very unwelcome, Ichigo usually found himself unable to trust Grimmjow. His presence rarely, if ever, constituted anything pleasant. Worse, unlike most of his feline brethren, this particular nekomata was neither benevolent nor harmless. He was selfish, crude, and capricious, and often argued with Ichigo over the slightest provocation.

At present, however, the large two-tailed cat merely turned his head to see what Ichigo had been studying with such intense interest only a moment ago. Upon seeing the two girls just on the other side of the sliding door, the whiskers over Grimmjow's eyes rose, a toothy grin stretching across his face.

"Aww, looks like our little kirin has a crush!" the cat gloated, prancing away from the open door and into the shadows beyond it, "You sure can pick 'em, Kurosaki. Leave it to you to start following _that_ girl around." Ichigo knew Grimmjow had dropped that into the conversation to prompt him to ask for information. He loathed being indebted to the obnoxious cat for anything. But at the same time, it was clear that Grimmjow knew something more about Orihime than Ichigo did. He knew his mind wouldn't be settled until he knew what the cat did.

"If I did, you'd be the last person I'd let know," Ichigo snorted, feigning disinterest, "And what about her? She seems fine to me." Grimmjow laughed, a guttural barking sound, leaving Ichigo wanting to hit him with his hooves. He stopped, sitting on his haunches and flicking his tails boredly.

"You really are clueless, aren't you?" he asked, his eyes glittering in the moonlight, "She's the ugliest girl in the entire court! I can't believe you didn't notice it!" Ichigo cocked his head at Grimmjow; was the cat trying to mock him or something?

"What, did she chase you out of her room or something?" Unlike Ichigo, Grimmjow could walk freely about the palace as a regular cat whenever he chose.

"I guess it can't be helped," Grimmjow condescended, rising to his hind legs, "You can't just walk in whenever you feel like it. But I hear plenty of things while I'm in there. Most of the other ladies hate her and not a single man has come to visit her in her room in the whole time she's been here. Isn't it sad?" Ichigo wanted to roll his eyes. Secretly, though, he took note that he had no competition; almost as soon as he'd had the wayward thought, he stuffed it back down.

"So what exactly _is_ wrong with her?" he asked skeptically, feeling that resentment from earlier bubble up again, "She looked perfectly pleasant to me."

"What's _not_ wrong with her according to those people?" Grimmjow replied with a snort, "Her hair's an outrageous color, her eyes are too wide and the wrong shape, and even though she reads and writes well, there doesn't seem to be much between her ears, if you know what I mean." Ichigo could feel his teeth grinding together as the cat smirked at him.

"Of course," he continued, "That's just what I hear. Most of the girls talking about her are pretty ugly themselves, you know. Nasty little bitches, these court ladies; one of 'em or the other is always stealing combs or ink wells or paper out of her room. Petty shit like that." Ichigo snorted and tossed his head back, flicking his mane over his neck.

"So what you're saying is," he drawled, "That humans are mean-spirited idiots." The cat shrugged.

"You could say that," he said lightly, "None of the human men here are willing to be seen actually talking to her or anything. Pretty stupid if you ask me. Of course, _I_ think she's decent. But I've got my eyes on a bigger prize than her." This actually _did_ pique Ichigo's curiosity; Grimmjow had his eyes on a human girl?

"I get the feeling you're going to tell me whether I ask or not," Ichigo said flatly, masking his actual curiosity at the leading statement.

"Of course I am," Grimmjow said, walking down the veranda on his hind legs, not at all unlike the humans he had just been ridiculing, "But if you change your mind when you see her, I'll kick your ass."

With that, the nekomata led Ichigo down along the veranda to the next room with an open door. This one had the blinds half-drawn as well, giving him a clear picture of the woman inside. Unlike Orihime, however, she was laying on her side, her shapely back turned to the two creatures just outside her door. Her golden, wheat-colored hair fell over her back and pooled by her shoulder in waves, and Ichigo thought he could make out a letter of some sort in her hands. And unlike Orihime, she was laying beneath her layers of clothing from earlier in the day, completely exposed to the cool night air behind her curtain of state (5). This he recognized as the lady with the blue eyes from earlier in the evening.

"Her?" Ichigo asked skeptically, "Wouldn't she have the same problems as Inoue?" Grimmjow dropped to his forepaws, taking on the appearance of a regular tomcat as he shrugged.

"Like I said, humans are idiots," he said nonchalantly, "She's different, though. The other women don't like her, but the men sure do. She makes sure _she_ gets the pick of the litter."

As if on cue, something on the far side of the blonde woman's room stirred and Ichigo heard footsteps moving towards them. A voice called the lady's name - Rangiku he thought it was - and she sat up, letting the jackets that were covering her fall about her waist.

Presently, a scarred man with short, spiky black hair and thin, serious eyes rounded her curtain of state. While there was a rough-hewn sort of attractiveness in the man's manner, Ichigo couldn't help but think he looked even courser than he himself must appear. As for Rangiku, she greeted him warmly, rising from her bed and embracing him with a kiss. Then, just as he seemed to be about to return the affections, she turned back towards her blinds. Ichigo could have sworn she looked right at the two of them with a wink before dropping the blinds and obscuring their view. Even with the blinds drawn, he could still clearly see the silhouettes of the two lovers cast by the lamplight and hear murmurs of their voices. Blushing beneath his fur, Ichigo turned to paw at the ground in embarrassment.

"That guy," Grimmjow pointed out helpfully, "Is the Captain of the Palace Guards. Sounds impressive, but it's not exactly a high rank with the nobility. Either way, pretty good catch for such an 'ugly' girl, huh?" There was amusement in the cat's voice, but it made Ichigo raise a skeptical eyebrow.

"If she already has a mate, what makes you think you stand a chance?" he asked incredulously. Surely he wasn't intending to abduct a human woman?

"You're pretty naive, aren't you, Kurosaki?" the cat asked, cocking a whiskered eyebrow, "It's not like they're actually trying to make human kittens or anything. It's for fun." Ichigo raised his head and watched the shadows move against the blinds, blush burning his furred skin. He could hear soft voices from beyond the bamboo slats, little moans and groans that he'd never heard before in his short life.

"Fun?" he repeated, not sure he believed it, "She sounds like she's in pain." If it was possible for a cat to roar with laughter, that was exactly what Grimmjow was doing at that moment.

"You really _are_ a virgin, ain't you?" the cat said, wiping tears from his green eyes with a paw, "Guys like those noises - they're erotic. It's supposed to be even better if they're scared." This was shocking to Ichigo; if one wanted to love a girl, why would one want to scare her? He couldn't imagine enjoying knowing he'd frightened Orihime. He pictured wide, terrified, honey-colored eyes full of tears turned on him. This realization caused him to duck his head again in embarrassment.

"You're an ass, Grimmjow," Ichigo grumbled, "You'd really do that to a girl you were trying to mate?" The cat snorted to swallow his laughter.

"Why not?" he asked lightly, prancing back and forth across the veranda in his own cat-like way, "It's not like they get a choice in the matter." (6) This truly horrified Ichigo; that something so intimate could be forced on one of these women, particularly on one as unassuming as Orihime, was simply awful.

"What do you mean they don't get a choice?" he replied, his voice rising with anger, "You don't think that's wrong?" Grimmjow shrugged, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"That's the way it's done, kid," he said with perfect indifference, "If the woman doesn't like it, all she has to do is ignore his letters the next day. Most guys take the hint." The silver cat leapt from the wooden balcony, landing concisely in the grass beside Ichigo.

"What about you?" Ichigo snorted, pawing dangerously close to one of the nekomata's tails, "You act like you're an expert." Maybe it was hatefully said, but Ichigo saw no reason to disguise his disgust at the perverted tomcat.

"Not with human women," the cat replied, lifting his tails out of the kirin's reach, "But I've seen enough in the palace to know what I'm talking about. That's why as soon as I find a way around that annoying onmyouji's barriers, and that guard captain leaves her alone for a night, it's going to be my turn." His tails were now a banner waving behind him in assumed triumph as Grimmjow began sauntering past Ichigo.

"Besides," he added, "It's not like she's any stranger to beasts like us. There was a white kitsune that used to visit her all the time, 'til that onmyouji kicked him out of the palace. Not that I'm intending to let that happen to me..."

"You're disgusting," Ichigo said, tossing his mane and moving back towards Orihime's open door.

"Maybe!" Grimmjow cheerfully returned, "But I'm also right. Careful someone else doesn't move in on your territory, Kurosaki. Even with all her little 'flaws', that girl won't get looked over forever."

Ichigo watched the obnoxious tomcat stroll off towards the forest. He didn't even want to consider where he could be going or what he might go off to do now. No, his attention was focused on the girl still chatting with her friend in her well-lit room. As irritating as Grimmjow was, Ichigo had no reason to believe he was lying in what he'd said. And if that was true, could he really afford _not_ to see to Orihime himself? There would be no harm in at least watching out for her, even if it meant interacting with humans. She wouldn't even have to know he was there, really - just pretending to post guard outside her door for some of the night would be enough to forestall any unwanted advances.

With renewed spirit, Ichigo decided that he'd watch from outside this evening and then find a way inside around the onmyouji's barriers with the morrow.

* * *

(1) In the Heian era, the lunar calendar was used. The fourth month would've been somewhere between the end of April and the end of May. While it was pronounced 'Fourth Month' (as in modern Japanese), it was spelled out 'Unohana Month', after the flowers of the same name.

(2) The day was divided between twelve watches, each two hours long and named after a figure of the Chinese zodiac. Hence, the first quarter of the tenth watch would be about 6:30pm.

(3) Onmyouji were/are something of a cross between court magicians, priests, astrologers, and exorcists. In Heian Japan, they had charge of an entire bureau in the palace, the Ministry of Divination. They were also responsible for keeping track of time in the palace.

(4) The most famous onmyouji of all time. Depending upon the source, he either had no children or had adopted some, so the claim of the court onmyouji being descended from him is dubious at best.

(5) During the Heian era, people used their clothes from the day for their blankets. In other words, Rangiku is in bed for the evening.

(6) As bad as this sounds, Grimmjow's sentiments weren't uncommon during this era – _Ichigo_ is actually the odd man out.


	2. Chapter 2:  Nightly Visitor

**Title:** Lady in Waiting, Chapter 2 – Nightly Visitor

**Warnings:** AU, het (IchiHime), historical geekery

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. This will probably (never) be updated weekly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever (this one is short, so this is a joke. Hopefully). Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone for their lovely reviews and subscriptions on this fic! I haven't forgotten it, I just got busy moving and everything. And for the record, I have no intention whatsoever of dropping it; it's going to be a lot shorter than my other fic, so there's no danger of that. Also, there are a lot more footnotes than I thought there would be this time. Please bear with them!

* * *

The next evening around dusk, Ichigo went to find Orihime's room again. Strangely enough, though, this evening it was unoccupied. Out of curiosity, he made his way down the lawn towards the next room's open veranda to see that it was also empty. Noting that every room he came to was as yet empty, he flicked his ears around to see if he could possibly catch where the ladies had gone.

Perhaps they were out for a walk? But weren't they usually back in before dark? He gamboled down the darkening lawn, looking to seek out the missing ladies. He hadn't gone far around the corner before he heard the faint sounds of music, and finding a sheltering copse of trees, he made his way along the edge of the spacious grounds. He traveled down the west side of the palace grounds before coming to the south end; peering through the branches of the carefully tended trees and bamboo, he could see long tables laid out with food, attendants, musicians, and to his left, two large silk screens. The first screen separated the mass of male officials from the ladies, who were seated around a girl with shoulder-length black hair. They were dressed in their multi-layered, brightly colored robes, chattering happily and vying for the regal-looking girl's attention. The second screen interested Ichigo less; he figured that was where the Emperor was seated, as well as a few of his personal attendants.(1)

Looking from girl to girl, Ichigo finally located the one he was after. She was seated at the princess' right hand, commanding most of her attention. A quick scan of the other girls showed him faces full of resentment except for two; the black-haired girl he'd seen the night before, Tatsuki, and the blonde that Grimmjow had his eye on, Rangiku. He snorted his disapproval, tossing his mane a bit. In reality, he wanted to march right up and bite every last one of them, but he knew he couldn't do that.

In any case, they chattered and at least maintained a modicum of decorum. Ichigo folded his long legs beneath his body, deciding that as he had nothing else to do, he might as well watch them until they went inside. Certainly no one would approach her here, but he wanted to be sure he didn't miss her going back to her room. And keeping watch over an empty room wasn't exactly a prospect he was excited about.

And if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he also enjoyed simply watching her as she enjoyed herself. Her hair glimmered in the lamplight, that supposedly ugly, long red hair. The straight-backed Princess Imperial smiled as much as her guarded reserve would allow at her cheerful, animated friend as she talked. The girl he had his eye on gestured wildly with her hands and expressions, causing Ichigo's heart to do a little flip-flop as he watched. She was always so outgoing and full of life; how did she manage that in this place? If what Grimmjow said was true, shouldn't she be more wary of those around her? It made Ichigo fret; why didn't she notice that the world wasn't a warm, happy place?

Even so, she seemed perfectly content with her three friends, tuning out the rest of the women who would occasionally insert themselves into the conversation or make snide remarks at her expense. She'd favor them with a smile and a genuinely polite comment and then go right back to talking to the princess or one of their other two friends.

Ichigo stretched his neck out and rested his chin on his folded front legs. He couldn't understand why, but he couldn't stop watching this girl. He had sworn long ago, when he first discovered his true nature, that he would no longer mix himself up in the affairs of human beings. So why her? Perhaps if he continued watching her from afar, he'd figure it out.

* * *

The brunette jiggled the latch on the door, disappointed when this one didn't budge either. And it was the fifth one in a row! How unfair!

Asano Keigo whined to himself as he trudged down the hallway away from the latest door, defeated again. After the banquet, he'd hoped to spend the night with one of the Princess Imperial's beautiful ladies-in-waiting, but it seemed that they were all either already spoken for or had simply locked their doors. How cruel could fate be? This always happened to him! Even after he'd been promoted to the fourth rank,(2) the girls still avoided him like this if they could help it and he couldn't understand why. Maybe he just had horrible luck? Maybe there was a vengeful spirit following him? Maybe he should go to the onmyouji for help?

As he reached the next door, however, the gods of luck seemed to smile upon him. The latch opened easily, perhaps left unlocked by providence just for him. As he slid open the door and gently raised the curtain hung just before the entryway, he could see the room was occupied by one of the ladies. Even better, he could clearly see the back of her head from behind her curtain of state. He couldn't help but be a bit disappointed upon seeing the coppery red hair in the lamplight; wasn't this the girl that everyone said was bad looking? Ah well, it wasn't like anyone else had to know, and Keigo would take what he could get at this point.

When she turned to look at him from over her curtain of state, however, his point of view changed entirely. Wide, honey-brown eyes stared at him openly above the curtain, her cute, pert mouth forming a startled 'o' shape. The rumors had been wrong - this girl was gorgeous! And if her silhouette was anything to judge by, so was her body. The gods were looking out for him after all!

Just as he moved forward, letting the screen in the doorway clatter down behind him, she ducked back behind her curtain of state with a squeak. He could make out that her arms had gone to cross in front of her chest as she vanished.

"Umm!" she stammered from behind the curtain, her voice sweet and light for all that it seemed nervous, "I-I was changing, s-so please go back outside!" Keigo sighed happily; even her nervousness was adorable!

"Don't worry, fair lady!" he said with a bit of flair that was meant to be reassuring, "Tonight is a night for love! For I, Asano Keigo, have come to deliver you from your loneliness!" Far from being comforted, the redhead seemed more confused than ever.

"I-I'm not really lonely, though," she said quietly, "B-But thank you anyway?" Keigo looked absolutely aghast at this proclamation. He was young, good-looking, and of a respectable rank; what woman wouldn't want to spend the evening with him?

"Th-Th-This is a tragedy!" he cried, completely ignoring the lady's nervous shushing, "What a waste! Such a beautiful girl, yet she doesn't want a lover! How sad! How incredible!" He continued lamenting in this manner, all the while ignoring the increasingly distressed countenance of the girl behind the screen.

"P-Please stop!" she pleaded, "People will hear! They'll get the wrong idea! They'll think I'm torturing you!" Suddenly, the brown-haired man rounded her screen to grasp her hands with tears in his eyes. The redhead squeaked from the contact, clearly uncomfortable. She also had the front of her robes open from where she had been undressing; Keigo's eyes bulged, but this only hardened his resolve.

"Y-You're so sweet to worry about my reputation!" Keigo exclaimed, pulling her closer by her hands, "But don't worry! I'll make sure to tell everyone what an unconventional beauty you really are!" Her look of confusion only deepened at this proclamation.

"Ano... That's not... Really what I was worried about..." This, of course, went ignored as well.

"Oh, how modest!" Keigo exclaimed happily, "How charming! Let us consummate our newfound love right now!" And with that, he launched himself at her, toppling them both to the bedding behind the screen, causing the lady to give a sharp squeak of protest.

Before Keigo could get any further with the new object of his affections, however, the blinds covering the doorway rustled again, followed shortly by a sharp jerk on the collar of Keigo's jacket.

"You're making the lady nervous," a rough voice growled, "So why don't you get off of her and _get out_!"

Keigo's face fell as he turned his head to see who had grabbed him. He was tall and muscular, his size immediately imposing on the smaller man. Worse, he had a guard's uniform on; if he turned him in to the captain of the guard, who knew what would happen? His most striking features, though, were his bright orange hair and copper-colored eyes; far from the lady's more subdued hair color, there was definitely something threatening and other-worldly about this man's coloring. Keigo felt as though he was being stared down by a monster.

"G-G-Guard, un-unhand me this instant!" he weakly protested, "I-I'm a gentleman of the fourth rank!" The guards weren't gentlemen of rank, so he technically had to obey him, right?

"Like I care," came the snorted response. Instead of releasing him, the guard hoisted him by his collar and carried him to the door. Keigo was deposited outside unceremoniously, the door snapping shut behind him and locking with a click.

Ichigo turned back to the screen, noting the outline of the girl huddled behind it. Cool relief poured through him; he'd seen the beginning of that exchange from the lawn, so it was good to know he had made it in time.

"You alright?" he asked, his tone still slightly rough, although it was actually fairly gentle for him. He could see Orihime rub her head from the other side of the screen, a nervous little laugh reaching his ears.

"I-I'm fine!" she chirped shakily, "That was really weird, huh?" Ichigo slapped his forehead with his open palm; she had no clue what was about to happen just then, did she?

"Just... be more careful from now on, okay?" he barked, a layer of concern hidden beneath his words, "Lock your damn door when you're getting undressed."

"Ah?" Orihime replied, her voice laden with curiosity, "How did you know I was undressing?" Ichigo was suddenly thankful she couldn't see him at the moment, as his face had flushed a rather fetching pink color.

"I-I guessed," he stammered before backtracking, "I saw a little when I grabbed that idiot, too." He could hear her laughing behind the screen and couldn't help but imagine her giggling into her sleeve.

"It's okay if you were peeping," she said, clearly amused, "Rangiku-san said it's fine as long as the man is lesser rank than us."(3) Now Ichigo wasn't sure if she was really being that innocent, or if she was teasing him. And anyway, the whole rank thing was starting to annoy him; that pervert had said that, too.

"That... That's not fine, dammit!" he protested, suddenly rankled at the thought of other men spying on her - never mind that this was exactly what he'd been doing for the past two days, "They shouldn't be spying on you!"

"But you were?" she asked innocently; her tone made it even harder to stay mad at her.

"I was _not_," Ichigo barked with an air of finality. He huffed to himself before plopping cross-legged onto a cushion on the floor. He watched Orihime's silhouette cock its head at this action.

"Wh-What are you doing?" she asked, a note of trepidation in her voice.

"What does it look like?" he said, trying to make sure his blush didn't filter into his voice, "I'm going to stay here and make sure he doesn't come back." He could practically hear Orihime flailing behind the screen.

"Y-You don't have to, Kurosaki-kun!" she exclaimed, sounding very red at the moment, "I-I'll be just fine! Besides, d-don't you have guard duties?" Ichigo's brow shot up at this; he'd almost forgotten he was pretending to be a guard.

"I'm... I'm not on duty right now," he grumbled. He saw Orihime's fist meet her palm behind her screen.

"If you weren't on duty, then you _were_ peeking!" she said triumphantly. Ichigo groaned, resting his forehead in his hand.

"For the last time, I wasn't peeking!" he protested before changing the subject, "Just... Just undress and go to sleep." He hunched over, putting his hands on his legs, which were crossed in front of him, and turned his back to the screen.

"Aww, I was just teasing," Orihime pouted quietly as she undressed, her back also turned to the screen. As Ichigo's cheeks burned, she stripped her layers of thin kimono off and huddled under them, pulling them up to her shoulders.

"Alright, I'm done," she said quietly, just enough to reach her on the other side of the screen. Ichigo didn't move, however; this started Orihime worrying just a bit. What was he thinking?

"Then go to sleep," he grumped. Her plucked eyebrows crinkled a bit.

"You're... You're not leaving?" she asked, "B-But you're in my room and..." Ichigo wondered if he wasn't being a bit forward for just a moment, but then he decided he didn't care. If he was in there, no one else would dare bother her.

"I'm going to stay on this side of the screen," he said, his voice slowly becoming softer, "So you don't have to worry about anything. Alright?" Something about his manner and demeanor told Orihime that she could trust him; as his voice became less angry and gruff, it soothed her worries a bit. As she laid back into her pallet, she felt herself relax in his presence a bit.

"Alright," she said quietly, "Goodnight, Kurosaki-kun." Even though she couldn't see it, the corners of Ichigo's mouth tugged upward into a reluctant smile.

"Night, Inoue."

* * *

"Ano, Rangiku-san..."

The ladies had withdrawn to one of the Princess Imperial's rooms after their breakfast for a long game of parts.(4) It was now around the time of the fifth watch, and a mid-morning drowse had settled over the room. Guesses on the exposed radicals had gotten lazy, as well as prying, unwelcome ears, so Orihime thought now was just as good a time as any to ask her older friend about more personal matters. Besides, if she waited until after tea had been ordered, she would have missed her chance.

"Yes?" The buxom blonde answered, having long since grown bored of the game and having instead opted to browse casually through a collection of erotic poetry. (5)

Regardless of what certain other ladies may have thought, Rangiku wasn't unobservant. Far from it, actually; very little escaped her notice. She knew who all had visited Haruko in the past week; what all Keiko had stolen from the other girls' rooms; and most importantly, which gentlemen had the worst manners and should be avoided at all costs.

Now, just as in any other instance, Rangiku could tell that something was up with Orihime. Her eyes were shifty. There was a faint blush on her cheeks. Most of all, she seemed to be giving off a general air of nervousness. In that regard, Rangiku was most like a cat; she could always sense nervousness. It drew her attention like a beacon.

"M-May I ask you--?"

"Did he leave a morning-after letter?(6) Let me see!" Even though she had kept her voice low, there was undeniable glee in it; her little Orihime-chan had finally been made a woman! Orihime's face turned bright red as she stammered and tried hard not to flail too hard or draw any unnecessary attention. Rangiku's eyes twinkled with mischief at the younger lady's obvious discomfort.

"I-It's not that!"

"Morning-after letter?" Tatsuki suddenly interjected between the two. Her voice was also quiet, but quite murderous still. "If it's that bastard Asano..." Orihime flailed even harder while Rangiku's face showed her distaste.

"Oh no, Orihime-chan, tell me it's not him!" she said, her disappointment evident, "Regardless of rank, you could do so much better."

"I'll break his legs," Tatsuki muttered, "And then I'll make him a eunuch. Then he can be around the court ladies as much as wants." Neither Orihime nor Rangiku had much doubt she'd do it, either.

"N-No, no!" Orihime cried softly, not wanting to get the other girls' attention, "It's not Asano-san! It's not like that at all!"

"Don't tell me..." Tatsuki said slowly, "It's not that damned guard you were talking to, is it?" Orihime stopped flailing and sat looking off to the side, her hands in her lap.

"Oooh, a guard?" Rangiku squealed, obviously excited by the prospect, "You're not slumming are you? Although that's fun, too! I hope he's at least a Second Lieutenant!" If at all possible, Orihime's blush got deeper.

"No, it's definitely slumming," Tatsuki drawled, casting her redheaded friend a disapproving look, "It's some hick with hair brighter than the two of you."

"Is he good-looking?" Rangiku asked happily, undeterred by Tatsuki's ill temper, "What kind of a 'fighter' is he? Although I don't suppose Orihime-chan has anyone to compare him with..."

"Rangiku-san! Tatsuki-chan!" Orihime finally cried, having had quite enough, "It's not like that! There's not been any fighting!" Tatsuki looked just a tiny bit relieved; Rangiku looked decidedly disappointed.

"Aww, you're no fun, Orihime-chan," Rangiku pouted.

"I'd rather she not be that kind of fun, Rangiku-san," Tatsuki said firmly, giving Orihime an affectionate pat on the head.

"I just wanted to ask," Orihime said from beneath her pinned-back bangs, "What does it mean when the man comes into your room every night and just... sits on the other side of the screen from you while you sleep?"

Both women stared openly at her.

"There was a man in your room?"

All three women turned, startled, to look at the newcomer. She was petite, with her glossy black hair curling attractively around her ears, and wide violet eyes full of curiosity. She knelt across from Tatsuki, completing a square with the other three girls, her green and gold imperial robes fanning out around her. Resting on her lap was the head of a large, cream-colored dog; he had the oddest black stripes all over his body, all the way down to his curly tail. Both dog and master regarded the three girls curiously.

"P-P-Princess!" Orihime exclaimed, face burning, "I-It's n-n-nothing!" She didn't want to sully the Princess Imperial's ears with such base talk.

"What was it like?" The princess asked, her voice hushed as well. The other three gave her astonished looks. "Between my Nii-sama and Zabimaru here, no man in this palace is brave enough to set foot in my room," she explained, ruffling the fur on the dog's head, "So I am curious."

The other three briefly entertained visions of the handsome, young Emperor and the large, striped dog chasing some poor nobleman across the palace, fangs and sword of state drawn. It was amusing in its impropriety.

"W-Well," Orihime began, looking from face to face, "He started doing it about a week ago, after Asano-san came into my room and jumped on me." She looked up from her lap to see her friends' reactions.

"Ooh, scandalous!" Rangiku said. She'd acquired a plate of dried fruit from somewhere and begun munching on it while listening.

"It is like a novel," the Princess said, stealing some of Rangiku's fruit snacks.

"I'm going to strangle that idiot," Tatsuki ground out, fairly well ignoring the other two.

"Tatsuki-chan, please!" Orihime cried, trying to keep the peace before continuing, "But ever since then, Kurosaki-kun has been coming into my room at night. He just sits there all night and faces away from my screen until morning! What could it mean?"

"Maybe he just wants to make sure that idiot Asano doesn't come back," Tatsuki said, folding her arms over her chest. Rangiku and the Princess didn't look convinced.

"That's boring, Tatsuki-chan," Rangiku pouted, her voice full of disapproval, "I think he wants to come behind Orihime's curtain, he just doesn't know how to ask. Ooh, or maybe... He's never been behind a girl's curtain and doesn't know what to do!" Orihime looked scandalized by this proposal.

"Princess, what do you think?" Rangiku asked, deferring to her lady. The Princess looked thoughtful for a second before giving her retainers a charming smile.

"I like Rangiku-san's idea best," she said, "It is more interesting." Rangiku simply smiled triumphantly.

* * *

After tea was served, then lunch, the four women retired to Orihime's room for the privacy Rangiku insisted they needed for their endeavors.

On the way, Rangiku made a detour to the palace carpenter's quarters. They were only there for a few minutes, but the bald man was a delight to watch. Orihime was quite amused by his rough demeanor and by how Rangiku teased him. His assistant even complemented Orihime on her hair; the beautiful man had said she was lucky to have such a unique color. It was certainly a change of pace from the comments she usually got on the topic.

After that visit was over, they all retired behind Orihime's curtain of state for Rangiku's instruction.

"Now, for your first lesson," Rangiku said proudly, holding all three girls in rapt attention, "Orihime-chan, where do you think babies come from?" Orihime cocked her head to the side as she considered the question.

"Nii-chan says that after a man and a woman get married, they go to the temple to pray and make an offering and then the gods will put a baby in the wife's belly!" Orihime answered proudly, confident she'd remembered everything. Rangiku looked as though she'd just eaten something bitter. Tatsuki's head fell into her hands. The Princess simply looked fascinated.

"I wonder if Nii-sama simply hasn't been praying properly?" She said thoughtfully, wondering out loud that he and the Empress hadn't yet produced an heir.

"Wrong!" Rangiku corrected, boldly pointing a finger in both their directions, "Babies come from sex!"

"Now you see why I keep warning her away from boys," Tatsuki said, a tired note in her voice. Orihime looked down sheepishly. The Princess raised her hand enthusiastically.

"I have a question!" she said, her face bespeaking her involvement, "What is sex?" Both Tatsuki and Rangiku's faces fell. Orihime shyly raised her hand as well.

"A-Ano," she stammered, "I'd like to know, too..." Tatsuki sighed audibly while Rangiku shook her head, a glimmer of determination forming in her eyes.

"I see I wasn't a moment too soon," she said finally, "We'll have to start from the beginning. Here." She drew the poems she'd been reading out of her sleeve and rummaged through the bound paper until she found a suitable one. "Read this."

Orihime and the Princess looked over the poem, shoulder-to-shoulder, both reading quickly. As soon as their eyes stopped scanning the page, they looked up at Rangiku expectantly.

"Well?"

"Sex is... walking through wet grass and mist at dawn?"

"There is... bamboo involved?"

Tatsuki's jaw dropped as Rangiku simply folded her arms and nodded.

"Give me that!" she said, snatching the book away from the two confused girls. She scanned the poem, reading quickly, before looking up at Rangiku in disgust. "Rangiku-san, this is ridiculous! How do you expect them to learn anything from this? It's all figurative!"

"It's classy!" she sniffed.

"Orihime-chan, Princess," Tatsuki began, handing Rangiku her book back, "Sex is when the man puts his penis into the place between a woman's legs and moves it back and forth until his essence comes out. _That's_ what makes a baby." Rangiku looked scandalized.

"You make it sound so vulgar!" she groused, her face red, "How can you say words like that in front of the Princess!" For their parts, Orihime and the Princess looked well-engrossed, regardless of the vulgar subject matter.

"What's a penis?" Orihime asked to no one in particular.

"You don't say it like that!" Rangiku protested, "You call it a 'jade stalk' or a 'golden spire' or a 'bamboo shoot', not something so... so... common!" (7) The Princess looked like her memory had been jogged at this and scooped Zabimaru up into her arms.

"It is this!" she exclaimed, showing the other girls her dog's belly and the protrusion at the bottom, "He relieves himself from there." And then, after thinking for another few seconds, "...Are you quite certain that is supposed to go inside a woman?" If a dog could blush, the girls were certain this dog was doing it beneath his fur.

"Yeah, that's it," Tatsuki deadpanned, "I don't see what's so great about them, but apparently other people think they're pretty spectacular." She cast a flat glance at Rangiku, who was trying to decide if the Princess showing her dog off like that was scandalous or not. Either way, it was the Princess, and she was in no real position to reprimand her manners.

"You're no fun, Tatsuki-chan," she said with a huff, "But yes, that is sex. For our next lesson, I need a calendar!" This time all three girls looked at Rangiku curiously.

"Should I get mine?" Orihime asked, beginning to stand. Rangiku waved her down.

"No, no," she dismissed, "I have a few with me. I asked the Onmyouji for spares." She pulled four cards out of her sleeve and passed them to Tatsuki and the Princess, keeping one for herself and one for Orihime.

"I'm going to show you how to chart your monthly cycle," she said, taking a small stamp from her sleeve, "Orihime-chan, may I use your inkstone?" Orihime nodded and stood to fetch the writing instrument.

"What is this supposed to do?" Tatsuki asked, now following Rangiku along with the other girls. Rangiku's eyes sparkled as she took the inkstone and the small dish of water from Orihime.

"Each woman's cycle is twenty-eight days long," Rangiku began, rubbing the inkstone until she had a reservoir of ink at her disposal, "You begin counting from the day you leave the palace. Orihime-chan, what day did your last visit to your brother begin?"(8) Orihime placed a finger to her chin thoughtfully.

"It was on the second day of the Snake,"(9) she recalled, her voice patient as she watched Rangiku mark that day, then count around the calendar a certain number of spaces.

"You start on that day," Rangiku said, moving her index finger around the circular chart as she spoke, "Then these days are days that you can't make a baby. Those are your 'safe days'. These days here are 'risky days', where you can make a baby if you have a visitor. And there are more 'safe days' here, right before your next cycle." As she explained all this, Rangiku stamped the 'risky days' on the calendar before handing it back to Orihime, who looked thoroughly impressed with it all.

"This is amazing, Rangiku-san!" she said in awe, "You know so much!" The Princess looked awestruck as well. Tatsuki looked skeptical.

"How do we know this works?" she asked, raising one plucked eyebrow. Rangiku shook a finger and winked at her.

"I've been doing this for years, and I don't have children," she said confidently, causing Tatsuki to give her calendar a second glance. Rangiku passed her the inkstone and the stamp, looking over her blank calendar as she did so.

"Here, you try!"

Each girl filled out her calendar in turn, watched over by the other three. Time ticked slowly by as the sixth watch melted into the seventh. The drowsy mid-afternoon was upon them; tea was ordered and gossip was exchanged. Warm sunlight poured in through the open northern balcony, as well as a gentle, warm early summer breeze. After the teapot was empty, though, Rangiku pulled her last surprise out of her sleeve.

"Are you ready for your last lesson?" she asked, cheerfully brandishing the small drill she'd acquired from her bald carpenter friend.

"We're going to make a shelf?" Tatsuki asked skeptically. Rangiku huffed and gave her an impatient look.

"Nooo~," she replied, regaining her cheerful demeanor, "I'm going to give you a demonstration!" Orihime and the Princess both looked wide-eyed with wonder. Tatsuki simply looked scandalized.

"What?" she exclaimed as Rangiku and the other girls turned toward the wall Orihime's room shared with Rangiku's, "Rangiku-san, no, absolutely not! Weren't you the one scolding me about being vulgar earlier!"

"There's nothing vulgar about a demonstration!" Rangiku said happily. Then, turning back to the thin, wooden wall; "Here is a good spot..." She placed the drill to the wood and began to turn.

"And you don't think the man will notice?" Tatsuki asked in disbelief. Rangiku continued to drill, flanked by the other two.

"Oh, I can simply hide the holes with a flower arrangement!" she said, completing one hole and hunting out a place for a second one, "Don't worry, Tatsuki-chan, I'll make you a hole, too!"

"How clever!" the Princess commented. Orihime couldn't help but agree.

After dinner, Rangiku retired back to her room to prepare for her guest while the other three hid behind Orihime's screen to wait. As soon as the halfway mark of the tenth watch was struck, all three girls piled against the wall to watch as Rangiku received the Captain of the Guard.

"He is quite dashing, is he not?" the Princess whispered to the other two. This elicited a small, whining grunt from her attendant dog, although the other two girls couldn't help but agree.

"I wonder if we'll see his golden bamboo pillar?" Orihime asked quietly, none of the three really concerned with whether she got the terminology exactly right or not.

"There it is!" Tatsuki said. Even though she had objected at first, she was now enjoying herself as much as the other two.

"I thought it would be... furrier," the Princess remarked curiously. Orihime nodded her assent.

"Well, it is kind of hairy," Tatsuki said with a smirk.

* * *

Out on the northern lawn, Ichigo was making his nightly rounds. He had been following this same path at dusk each night for the past week, passing by Orihime's room to see if she was alone while he grazed. Every night thus far, she had been; upon seeing that, he was then obliged to transform into his human shape and go inside to sit with her. Goodness knew what would happen if he didn't, after all.

Tonight was different, though. Tonight he looked across the patio to see Orihime, the girl he had heard called Tatsuki, and the girl he assumed was the Princess Imperial, all piled together with their faces pressed against the wall joining her room to Rangiku's. Even stranger, they appeared to be piled on top of what looked like a dog. No, Ichigo realized - not quite a dog...

"Must be some weird human game," he muttered to himself. If it was possible for a kirin to sweatdrop, that was exactly what Ichigo was doing just then.

* * *

(1) Like ladies of the time period, Emperors were also hidden from common view. They were considered too important to be seen by all but a chosen few, usually their attendants and certain ministers.

(2) Court noblemen were generally divided into six ranks, with periodic opportunities for advancement. Fourth rank is better than fifth or sixth, but is still not as good as the other three.

(3) It wasn't shameful for a woman of rank to be seen secretly by a man of lesser rank, as he was beneath her. Being seen in anything less than perfect condition by a man of higher rank, however, was cause for alarm.

(4) The game of parts was a game in which one would cover all but the radical of a kanji and give certain hints toward what the kanji was. Players had to guess the kanji from the visible radical and the hints given.

(5) Erotic poetry at the time was very figurative and tended to use lots of motifs from nature to allude to sexual encounters. There are examples later in the fic of these allusions, some charming and some borderline ridiculous.

(6) Morning-after letters were letters sent by a gentleman the morning after a sexual encounter with a lady. They were usually written in the same style as the poetry mentioned above.

(7) Certain things were considered 'vulgar' by the Heian Japanese, and were thus referred to in round-about ways as a matter of politeness. This would be one of those things.

(8) Menstruating and pregnant women were considered unclean and therefore unfit to share the same roof as the Emperor. Ladies in waiting would typically go back to their family's homes during that time of month, or if they became pregnant. Princesses and Empresses were transferred to other homes on the grounds.

(9) More Heian timekeeping. Monthly calendars are a bit difficult to explain, so just know that they are also based on the Chinese zodiac and have a cycle of sixty days.


	3. Chapter 3:  Warm Summer Nights

**Title:** Lady in Waiting, Chapter 3 – Warm Summer Nights

**Warnings:** AU, het (IchiHime), historical geekery, lemon

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. This will probably (never) be updated monthly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Note: **I apologize for the length of this chapter - I just couldn't break it up! Anyway, fair warning, there is smut in this chapter. Footnotes are done in the usual style!

* * *

Orihime stared expectantly at the calendar in her hand. The days Rangiku marked loomed before her, her heart beating as she thought about what would happen at the end of that time.

The sun had already set for the day and Ichigo sat outside her curtain of state, silent as usual. In the past few days, she'd taught him the basics of Go, playing with him on a board placed at the edge of her curtain. She had tried to engage him in a game of parts, but had failed; he was abysmally bad at guessing based on the radicals. (1) It was now his turn and she had been lost in thought, staring at the calendar and swallowing her own apprehension as she waited for him to place the black stones on the wooden board.

The hollow 'clack' of the stones hitting the board brought her attention back to the game at hand. Her head snapped up, amber eyes widening as she watched his able fingers place the stones. She blushed behind the curtain of state; even though it was for _her_ privacy, she found that she missed seeing his face. He _was_ quite handsome, after all. He made faces that she wanted to stare at until she memorized every line and crinkle of his brow, nose, eyes, and lips. What was worse, the constant barrier of her screen only made that desire more keen; it was now honed to a fine, sharp edge, like a blade. It made her quiver with excitement and embarrassment whenever she thought about those days finally passing.

Seeing only his fingers made that desire even worse. It led her imagination to strange places and made her heart beat fast. She recalled watching Rangiku with the Captain of the Guard a few days ago; could Ichigo's hands do things like the Captain's did? She imagined they could, and that they could do them to her.

"Your turn," he said evenly. Orihime blushed, his voice having interrupted her scandalous thoughts.

"A-Alright," she replied softly. As she stared at the board and her pot of round, white stones, she could hardly believe that the man on the other side of the screen could desire her. If left to her own interpretations of his words and actions, she never would have thought it. But Rangiku knew much more than she did on these matters, so it was probably prudent to trust her. Besides, he'd been coming to her room every night for the past week and a half, so... there had to be a reason, right?

Her slender fingers hovered over the pot full of full of white stones before picking one and moving towards the board. She placed it without too much thought as to where she was laying it before getting another. She wanted to at least keep up the _pretense_ of having her mind on the game.

But before she placed her next stone, she hovered over the board. If she was perfectly honest with herself, she wanted him to see her hands for as long as possible. It was all she could really show him from behind that curtain; she hoped it had the same effect on him as his own hands had on her. Finally, she placed the stone, not even caring where it landed.

"Geez, Inoue," he finally breathed, "Are you even watching where you put those things? Or is that some kind of strategy?" Orihime blushed as she reached for another pebble; clearly, he wasn't as distracted as she was.

"I-I call this my Super Fire of the Great Plains Strategy!" she stammered, hoping he believed her. After placing another stone, though, she meekly declared his turn.

"A-Ano, Kurosaki-kun?" she asked as soon as she saw his hand hovering over the board, holding a stone. While she didn't want him to move his hand away, she also hoped she might get him to talking, at least a little bit.

"Yeah?" he grunted, looking for a good place to place his stone. He finally laid it on the board, completing a fence around one of her badly-placed white stones. "Hah! Gotcha!"

"O-Oh!" Orihime exclaimed, watching as he collected her stone, "Umm... I was just wondering... what's it like where you're from?" That wasn't a very personal question, right? And she often heard people around the palace talk of home, usually very eagerly! So maybe Ichigo would talk about his home province, too!

"Err," he began, his voice stalling as he placed another black stone slowly on the board, "I'm... from Echizen." Well, that was a start!

"Oh! I have paper from there!" Orihime answered, eager to show some understanding of his home province, no matter how small, "It's very high quality!"

"Yeah," Ichigo responded from his side of the curtain, "They make a lot of paper there. Where we lived was... pretty quiet. Out of the way."

"You and your family?" she asked, seizing the opportunity to inquire further. Secretly, Orihime was burning to know what kind of family he had.

"Me and... my mother and father and two sisters," he said, his voice sounding a bit dryer than normal. Orihime smiled gently as she watched his fingers linger idly over the board.

"They must be lovely young ladies," she commented sincerely. Ichigo grew still on the other side of the screen.

"They were just babies... when I left," he continued. Orihime thought he sounded just a bit forlorn at this, as though he'd missed them growing up.

"Has it been long?" she ventured. His soft noise of agreement on the other side let her know she'd been correct in her guess.

"It's been a while, yeah," he said wistfully.

* * *

_'Been a while' was a bit of an understatement. Ichigo actually hadn't been home in several years, not since he found out the truth about himself._

_As a small boy, he wanted for nothing. His mother and father were kind and loving, both to each other and to him. His little sisters were adorable. And even though they had nothing like the Imperial Palace, their small house was still a home._

_His mother kept their house spotless and made sure their bellies were always full at dinner time. His father acted as an unofficial village doctor, often performing house calls and selling remedies to people who dropped by. One of his sisters was usually strapped to his mother's back as she did housework while he minded the other. When he wasn't doing that, he practiced his shaky handwriting; his father's brushes were often too big for his little hands, though, so it never turned out quite as well as he'd wanted._

_One day when he was ten, that all changed._

_He was out chopping wood behind the house at his father's request when it happened. It started in his fingers; as he held the axe handle, he noticed that they had become somewhat numb and stiff. He almost dropped the axe as he placed it down into the woodpile to look at his hands._

_Literally before his eyes, his fingers were changing. They were becoming straighter, harder, the fingernails pulling back to cover them. As he watched, his nails covered his entire fingers, reaching back to the knuckle. As soon as the hard material reached there, his fingers began to fuse together, forming one solid slat._

_As his hands became hooves, Ichigo's face contorted in horror. The change spread up his arms; they grew more slender, his red arm hairs thickening and growing longer, covering his skin with a tawny, orange coat of fur. He felt his legs changing, the bones shifting painfully as his feet became longer and tipped with hooves and his joints reversed. He felt his joints shifting and popping beneath his skin, ligaments and muscles twisting and rearranging themselves until his lower body resembled that of a horse or deer._

_As he fell forward, unable to support his weight with his new lower body, the pain of the transformation washed over him. He screamed as hard as he could, his throat growing raw at the sound ripping out of his mouth as it elongated into a muzzle. As his voice slowly turned into a deer's bleat, he panicked even further._

'What's happening to me?'_ Ichigo thought frantically. He could no longer even speak the human tongue he was used to - it just didn't come out right anymore._

_As he wobbled painfully on his new foal's legs, though, the worst part happened. He heard a woman's shrill scream from the back door of the house; he instantly recognized it as his mother's voice. He raised his new head to look at her, round black eyes full of tears. He could only bleat as he wobbled towards her for reassurance. Mother would know how to fix this, right?_

_Instead of reaching out to him, though, she shrank against the back wall, sinking to her knees. She covered her mouth with both hands, even as she continued to scream. In later years, Ichigo would realize that what she'd seen - her only son_ had _just turned into an animal right in front of her, after all - had probably scared her deeply and made her unable to act. At the time, though, the ten year old Ichigo was scared, in pain, and somewhat traumatized. Not knowing what else to do, he bolted._

_He ran from the back yard and into the surrounding forests on his new, thin legs, ignoring his mother's frantic calls for him. It hurt at first, adjusting to his new muscles and ligaments, but he kept running. When he was tired, he folded his spindly legs beneath him and slept. When he was hungry, he found he could no longer stomach meat; he could only eat vegetation now. He drank out of streams and found that his new body had its advantages. He could leap over large rocks and run faster than he had ever been able to as a human child._

_But he still kept running, wandering south. He eschewed human contact; he knew he'd never seen anything like himself before, and judging by his mother's reaction, there was no telling how they'd react. He occasionally met other animals with human consciousness - bakeneko, inugami, tanuki, kappa, spider-people, nue, even an oni once - but most of what he saw now were only squirrels and birds. And finally, he reached the capital and the royal palace._

_He didn't know what had attracted him to the palace. Maybe it was the interesting, flashy people moving across the grounds. Maybe it was the low, magical current that pervaded the area. Whatever it was, it had kept him there for the past five years._

_Ichigo had reached adulthood on the palace grounds. He'd grown steadily bigger, from a foal to an adolescent to an adult kirin. His horns had started out as tiny nubs, then grew larger and larger. Whenever they grew, they got itchy until he rubbed their velvety covering off on trees and rocks, until they were finally long and beautiful, twisting gracefully back from his forehead into two long, brilliant white spires._

_After a few years, he found he could switch gracefully back and forth between human and kirin on a whim. He learned how to speak with other the creatures, even with his new, longer mouth. He learned that what had caused him to transform in the first place was probably the physical exhaustion from the chores he'd done that day; whenever he got too tired, hungry, or angry, he found he couldn't fully access his human form. His kirin attributes would bleed through, creating a bizarre hybrid, if he was able to change anything at all._

_But his human side still longed for companionship. He had never seen any other creature like himself in all his wanderings. So he had taken to watching the palace inhabitants with more and more interest, until one day, he'd decided to climb a certain tree with wobbly branches..._

* * *

"Your turn," Ichigo said, placing his last stone for that round on the board.

"Oh-!" Orihime exclaimed, in that cute, innocent way of hers. Ichigo wondered if she realized he'd started blushing again on his side of the screen.

She was doing that thing with her hand again, the thing that was driving him nearly to distraction. She would pick up a stone, hover indecisively over the board for far longer than was necessary, then place it in a careless, all-around _bad_ place. During that agonizing time, he had no choice but to focus on her hand; the smooth, white skin, the delicate bones moving underneath, the long, graceful fingers. It was absolutely agonizing. He wondered if she was actually doing it on purpose.

The weirdest part was that he knew he could see the rest of her whenever he chose simply by reverting to kirin form and watching from outside. But in that form, he couldn't be close to her or come inside the palace; he certainly couldn't allow her to see him in that form. If she had the same reaction as his mother, he didn't know what he'd do.

His human body was doing strange things to him as he watched that delicate, slender hand place stones on the board haphazardly. Obviously, he was blushing, his skin a darker shade of red now than his hair. His heart beat hard against his chest, just as if he'd been sprinting out in the forest. Worst of all, though, was that now his hakama fit oddly; he knew he couldn't stand now even if he wanted. They'd stick out at a completely embarrassing angle. He fought the urge to punch that particular part of his anatomy until it settled down. This wasn't exactly something he'd ever had to deal with before.

"Err," he finally remembered how to use words, needing something, anything, to distract him from his awkward human body, "What about you?"

"Eh-?" came the startled reply from the other side of the curtain, "What do you mean?" Great - she'd probably forgotten what they had been talking about before, too.

"Your family," he said evenly, "What is your family like?" Her slender fingers paused over the board and seemed to droop a little as she contemplated her answer.

"I have a big brother," she replied, perhaps a bit wistfully, "A-And his wife, and her parents. When I'm not here, I stay with them." Ichigo could swear the last part was said with a certain degree of discomfort.

"What about your parents, Inoue?" he asked quietly. She shifted almost imperceptibly behind her curtain, only the rustling of her clothing giving her away.

"Oh, they passed away when I was very young," she said, her voice shining with what Ichigo thought was forced sunniness, considering the subject matter, "So Onii-chan inherited Otou-san's rank and office! (2) He's working hard for everyone, and I'm sure next year he'll get a promotion of his own and move up to the fourth rank! Definitely!"

"Is that why you live with his wife's family?" he asked earnestly. His family had lived independently of any in-laws or grandparents. In fact, now that he thought about it, he only recalled his mother mentioning her parents on very few occasions.

"Eh heh, sometimes I forget you're from the country," Orihime replied sheepishly, "Most of the nobles visit their wives' families. We just live with them because we don't really have enough for a place of our own yet." Ichigo wondered if Orihime was poor by nobility standards. Not that he really had much to judge by.

"B-But we will!" she continued, undeterred, "Onii-chan says that as soon as he gets that promotion, we'll have enough for our own place!"

Ichigo was suspicious, to say the least. Something about her description seemed off. Her brother, at least, seemed like a decent guy, but... what was it?

* * *

_"Orihime-chan, I'd like you to meet your new sister-in-law," Sora said, his hand on Orihime's shoulder. She was too young yet to hide behind the screen like the older girl her brother had just married._

_The matchmaker had said she was a perfect match for Sora, so naturally Orihime believed it. (3) Matchmakers knew people better than they knew themselves, so it was only natural that they'd pick the best girl for her big brother. Orihime had been daydreaming ever since about what her new big sister would be like. Of course she'd be pretty, and smart, and elegant! She had to be all those things; Sora had said she was from a much higher-ranked family than theirs, so it was important that she make a good impression._

_"Go on," he encouraged her, "Go say hello."_

_Orihime did as she was told, trying to remember her manners as she moved closer and shyly peeked around the corner of the screen._

_Her new sister-in-law looked to be no more than five or six years older than Orihime herself. She was petite, with splendid cherry-colored robes fanned out around her knees. Her shiny black hair was pulled into ponytails, one on either side of her face, and her eyebrows were plucked and redrawn to perfection. Her thin lips were curved up into a serene smile, and her almond-shaped eyes were a charming gray color._

_Altogether, she was the picture of perfect femininity. It made sense, didn't it? Sora had said she'd been a court lady until only this past year when the old emperor and his retinue retired. When her mistress left the palace, his new wife had come back home to stay with her parents and find a husband._

_"H-Hello, Onee-san," Orihime said softly, with as deep a bow as her small body would allow. Sora smiled from behind her, pleased that she'd remembered her manners. The girl behind the curtain smiled as well. Orihime's heart swelled; she liked her!_

_"Sora, dear," the beautiful girl said, her voice lilting and sweet, "Would you mind leaving us? I'd like to get to know my new little sister better." Orihime watched her brother bow slightly to the curtain, his eyes twinkling._

_"Of course, Loly-san," he said affectionately before excusing himself. Orihime watched him go excitedly; she was going to get to know her new big sister better._

_"Come here, Orihime-chan," Loly chirped, motioning the younger girl towards her with one graceful hand. Orihime smiled brightly as she stepped forward, completely behind the screen._

_But as soon as Orihime got within arm's reach of the older girl, her countenance changed completely. Her eyes narrowed and her pretty lips curled up into a sadistic smirk. Her well-manicured hand shot out from her elaborate robes and twisted into the nine year old's russet-colored hair, yanking her head back hard. Orihime gasped, the pain in her scalp causing tears to form in her eyes._

_"What is this ridiculous color?" Loly asked with a sneer, "I bet you think you're pretty special, huh, Princess?" Orihime fought back a sob; what had she done wrong?_

_"I-It hurts, Onee-san!" she cried, not daring to fight back against the bigger girl. Sora would be so disappointed if she couldn't get along with her._

_"It hurts, it hurts~" Loly mocked her, jerking her little head this way and that, "Get used to it, brat. You're under my family's roof now, so you have to play by _my_ rules! Got it?" Orihime could only whimper her agreement._

_In the years that followed, Loly showed Orihime exactly what she'd meant. She was often scolded and singled out by Sora's mother and father-in-law, sometimes even for messes that Loly herself had made. She was punished frequently, usually over very minor infractions, if she'd even done anything wrong at all. Loly and her mother struck her often, usually with little-to-no provocation at all._

_Sora, meanwhile, was treated fairly well, all catty comments about his baby sister aside. But he also wasn't blind. Even after Orihime was ready to move behind her own curtain of state and he stopped seeing the mysterious bruises on her arms, legs, and face, he could still tell something was wrong._

_It hadn't taken him long to figure out what was going on. Unfortunately, he was powerless to do anything. If he tried leaving Loly, her parents would destroy his career and he and Orihime would be out on the street. If he tried reprimanding his spoiled wife, he was nagged into submission by her parents._

_Things were heavily strained between the couple; they rarely slept in the same room together, let alone touched one another. And Orihime knew she'd seen strange men leaving off the veranda outside Loly's room more than once. She was far too afraid of the older girl to say anything to anyone, but she suspected her brother knew anyway. (4)_

_It was in this unstable environment that Orihime reached adolescence. Sora promised that just as soon as he was promoted to the fourth rank, he'd be able to afford them their own place and they would no longer be beholden to his in-laws. But New Years came and went with no change in rank for several years, so Sora was forced to think of another way to defend his little sister. (5)_

_As Loly and her mother had connections in the Office of Central Affairs at the palace, he pleaded with them to secure Orihime a place at court. They resisted at first, of course, heavily reluctant to do anything more than they were obligated to help the girl. But Sora persisted, doing his best to make it seem as though he wanted rid of her just as badly as they did._

_Finally, after several months, he secured a place for her as one of the Princess Imperial's ladies in waiting. They were about the same age, so he hoped it would be a good fit. When Orihime returned home after the first month, her voice brighter than he had heard it in years, he knew it had been the right decision. _

* * *

Orihime stared at the calendar in her hands. The days had finally passed, crawling along at the pace that only warm, early summer days could. She'd had to endure probing questions from Rangiku, grumbling from Tatsuki, and curious looks from the Princess Imperial (as well as strange, pleading looks from her faithful dog), but finally, the day was here.

She hadn't moved from behind her screen since at least the eighth watch, waiting impatiently for her visitor to make his nightly rounds. Just before sundown, she'd stripped herself of all but one thin under-robe, which she'd left draped open over her shoulders, revealing her generous cleavage. It was just as well; it was hot out that night anyway.

Her stomach was tying itself in knots as she fidgeted, her fingers obviously trying to do the same. She would put the calendar down, only to pick it back up to stare at it a few minutes later. She'd even taken to chewing the hems of her sleeves in her nervousness. So when the blinds in front of her door finally rattled half-way through the tenth watch, her head snapped up so fast that she almost pulled a muscle.

"Ku-Kurosaki-kun?" she asked meekly, not wanting to embarrass herself if it was someone else.

"It's me," he replied, his voice sounding a bit confused. Of course, she reasoned that she usually didn't ask if it was him when he came in.

"Can you... Can you lock that door?" After a beat, she heard the door slide shut behind the blind and its lock click. As she listened to Ichigo's heavy footsteps from the other side of her curtain, her breath caught in her throat; what if she lost her nerve at the last second?

"Are you alright?" Ichigo asked, coming alongside the curtain, but not yet sitting, "You... sounded a little ill just now." There was an odd hesitation in his voice. Orihime suspected he'd been peeking again; after all, she thought she would probably appear sick to anyone who didn't know what she was up to. The idea made her giggle, finally breaking her apprehension.

"I'm fine," she said softly. Then, after a few seconds: "Ne, Kurosaki-kun... Would you... come back here f-for a little bit?" She could see his head tilt from the other side of the screen.

"Do you... need help with something?" came the hoarse, somewhat choked reply. Orihime couldn't help feeling that his gruff reply might actually mean he really was interested.

"Umm," she stammered, feeling her face heat up, "I-I guess you could say that... I really just... wanted to see you for a bit. Face-to-face, I mean." He didn't move for a few long, excruciating seconds. Then, Orihime's heart leapt into her throat as he rounded the edge of her curtain.

He was just as wonderful as she remembered, all shaggy orange hair and scowls. This, she realized instantly, was a confused, concerned scowl. It was funny how a single expression could be used for so many different emotions. But as soon as he noticed her distinct lack of nearly all clothing, his expression changed just slightly. It shifted from simply being a confused scowl to being absolutely dumbfounded.

Orihime silently thanked Rangiku for the idea as she rose to greet him, robe falling artfully open. It revealed a strip of bare skin, stretching down the valley of her breasts, over the curves and dips of her little stomach, and down further, to her little patch of dark red curls just above her smooth thighs. Ichigo's face even turned a gratifying shade of purplish-pink at the sight of all the exposed flesh.

"Inoue, what are you-" he stammered, moving to pull her robe closed. As he did, he brushed the warm skin of her collarbone, causing her heart to skip a beat and her stomach to flutter. In response, her little hands closed around his wrists as she looked up at him. As his fingers loosened and let the fabric slip back open, she took a step towards him.

"I just thought m-maybe you'd like to spend the night back here tonight," Orihime said sweetly, her eyes half-lidded. She watched as he swallowed, the hard knot under his flesh bobbing up and down the length of his throat.

"Al-Alright," he acquiesced, his faltering voice betraying him, "Are you sure you don't want to put anything else on? Are you... You're not feeling sick or anything, are you?" Orihime gave him a small smile; this wasn't as scary as she'd thought it would be.

"I feel fine, Kurosaki-kun," she reassured him, "Maybe just a little hot, though. See?" She guided his limp hands beneath her robe, spreading them across her chest to cup the generous curves of her breasts.

She felt him respond, finally; he squeezed her gently, then moved curious fingers to flicker across the tiny pink pearls at the tip of her breasts. His eyes clouded with sensation as he wet his suddenly dry lips; Orihime entertained the notion that he meant to bite her then. As long as he kept moving his hands over her like that, though, she found she couldn't care less if he did or not.

Unfortunately, he did move his hands away. They trailed down her sides as she tried to coax them lower. She hoped he realized exactly how warm she felt between her thighs; the Captain of the Guard had spent a great deal of time between Rangiku's, after all. All Orihime could think of was how lovely his fingers would feel, moving rhythmically against her down there. Instead, his hands stayed firmly, but lightly on her waist. Orihime was about to protest in sweet frustration when he moved forward to capture her mouth.

His kiss was gentle and soft and his lips were warm. Orihime had never been kissed before, so every sensation and touch was new to her. When he slid his tongue between her lips, she eagerly opened them for him with a tiny whimper of acceptance. When he pulled her closer to his body, she happily complied, laying a hand on his firm chest and drawing closer to his delicious body heat.

His body was firm and warm, all hard lines and sinuous muscle. As Orihime's hands rested on his chest, she could feel those muscles move beneath her touch. Through their closeness, she inhaled his scent, a mixture of earthy, woody tones and warm spice; it was unlike anything she'd ever smelled before, so uniquely _him_ that she couldn't help but blush. While thus enthralled, his hands slowly moved back up her sides and brushed her sensitive nipples, feeding the fire that was building in the pit of her stomach. As they passed the tender, pink flesh, leaving it to bounce back into place, his hands reached her shoulders. With one shrug, he pushed the flimsy garment off her arms to join the little futon of robes she'd prepared for them after sunset.

She drew closer to his body then, his broad hands and strong fingers massaging her shoulders. His breath had quickened, coming out in deep puffs against her lips whenever he pulled back from her for any reason. But there was something else now consuming Orihime's thoughts.

She could feel _it_ pressing against her stomach as he held her. It was slender and hard, even beneath all the layers of his guard costume. Experimentally, she pressed her hips forward, the muscles of her stomach doing tiny flips at the idea that his body was reacting to her like that, of what he was going to do with that part of his body. As he met her small, shy grind, a muffled moan escaped his lips and vibrated over hers, causing her to whimper in return. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his red over robe, tugging him towards her.

Slowly, slowly she pulled him down to the soft bed of silken robes with her, settling on her knees before him between interspersed kisses. Her thighs were spread just enough to allow her to straddle his lap as his hands slid down to grip her hips. He pulled her forward to secure her body against his, her weight resting firmly against the straining bulge that had grown in his loose hakama. As her lower body came to rest against his, she could feel the heat of his erection through the layers of fabric. She could feel her warm, pink folds quiver with the excitement of the moment, knowing what was beneath her.

As Ichigo seemed reluctant to cease kissing her long enough to do anything else, Orihime decided to take the initiative with his clothing. She tugged insistently at his deep red over robe, allowing the fabric at the front to slide deliciously between her thighs. She gasped and blushed deeply at the sensation of that coarse silk abrading the sensitive nub there. These sensations were completely new to her and deliriously addictive. As she tugged that red robe over Ichigo's head, breaking their kiss to reveal his tan, sculpted chest beneath his open, white under shirt, she ground against his lap once more, not wanting to lose the friction there. With a shrug, the white shirt was added to the soft, growing pile.

Impatiently, she trailed her fingertips down his sternum and onto his abs until she reached his hakama-himo. This was it, the tie that separated her from the rest of his body; once undone, he would be bare before her in all his earthy, masculine glory. Those fingers that had been teasing him for weeks now hovered over the tie at his waist just as they'd hovered over those pots of Go stones. She vacillated, blushing heavily as she paused in contemplation of the weighty knot before her.

"Inoue," Ichigo rasped, sliding one hand to cover hers while he supported himself with the other, "I don't... I don't know what I'm doing here." Even though he was leaning back from her now, his whispered confession felt incredibly intimate. Orihime blushed as she lowered her eyelids, lashes brushing the apples of her cheeks.

"It's alright, Kurosaki-kun," she whispered in return, "I... I learned a little from watching Rangiku-san." Reassuring Ichigo actually served to help her shake off her embarrassed stupor and reach forward, pulling the tie loose and slowly undoing his hakama. As she finally pulled the front of his trousers down, it revealed the most masculine part of his anatomy; it stood parallel with his lower stomach, erect and proud against the warm night air. It was darker than his skin, reddish in tint, all muscles and veins, and with a thin hood covering the oblong head. And there, at the very tip, was a small bead of moisture glistening like a wet pearl.

Orihime's mouth formed a perfect circle as she focused on it. Her hand hovered indecisively just a hair's breadth from it before she reached out and tentatively brushed her trembling fingers against it. She heard Ichigo gasp at the contact and watched as he twitched beneath her touch.

"Your jade stalk moved," she whispered breathlessly. Ichigo's expression shifted from one of ecstasy to one of mild confusion. Orihime simply regarded him sheepishly.

"My what?" he asked, cocking his head to the side as he arched an eyebrow at her.

"Your... Your jade stalk!" she said, blushing as she grew bolder, wrapping her little hand around it, "You know, your... your marble tower! Your golden scepter! Your-" He silenced her with a kiss.

"Inoue, I get it," he finally breathed after breaking apart from her, "I don't see anything jade or golden about it, though." Orihime pouted her wet lips at him as she slowly began moving her hand up and down his silken shaft, just as she'd seen Rangiku do.

"Rangiku-san says it's poetic," she corrected. She could feel her need even more keenly now that he was completely exposed from his thighs up. That part of him smelled lightly of musk and heat and male and was only serving to further drive her mad. She was also aware of the scent of her own arousal; as he groaned under her touch, she wondered if he could smell it, too.

"And... what am I supposed to poetically do with this jade stalk?" he asked, his voice betraying just a hint of trepidation. Before Orihime could comment on it, he gave one of her pink nipples a tweak before trailing his hand down her side and onto her hip. He moved his hand down then, sliding it beneath her to rub gently at the wet folds he found there. A gasp escaped her lips as his probing fingers explored her slick pink lips, sending warmth surging through her body.

"I-It goes there," Orihime responded shyly, her cheeks burning, "Inside my blossoming lotus flower." Ichigo's fingers stopped as he regarded her incredulously.

"Are you sure she wasn't talking about actual plants?" he asked, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He seemed to have gotten the idea, though, as he brought Orihime forward by the hip with the hand he'd been leaning on. Still, she decided to play with him a bit more.

"No!" she told him in a conspiratorial whisper as she ground against his fingers, craving more of their length inside her, "I watched Rangiku-san do it with the Captain of the Guard! They did such scandalous things!" Instead of obliging her craving, however, Ichigo withdrew his fingers from between them, leaving a trail of wetness on their skin. She was straddling him completely now, pressed firmly against his length, legs on either side of his hips; all she'd have to do would be to move up a bit, and she'd be able to finally consume him.

"Show me," he commanded, his voice low and hot. Both his hands had fastened onto her hips now, fingers curling into her flesh. As she leaned forward, leaving a trail of wet heat up his shaft, he moved to kiss her again. Orihime gratefully devoured his lips as she finally felt the tip of his shaft brush her entrance. Wrapping arms around his neck and threading her fingers through his hair, she pressed against him. It was slick and yielding, and she found her mark easily; he nestled between her outer lips, sending jolts of delicious electricity tingling through her body. Oh, could it get better than this?

As she pushed him inside her, though, the feeling changed. There was resistance, something in the way. What if she wasn't able to fit him completely inside her? She hadn't asked Rangiku about that! Was it possible to be that incompatible with a man physically? She tried again, moving against him, and this time she felt herself stretch to admit him fully into her body.

Orihime broke their kiss to cry out. There was pain there, as though she'd been cut! It was an odd sort of pain, though, colored with fullness and pleasure and pressure. She stifled her gasping cries in the crook of his neck, missing the confused and slightly horrified look that had come over her lover's face.

"What happened?" Ichigo asked, voice wavering, "You're... You're hurt! There's blood! Inoue!" As Orihime moved ever so slightly to better accommodate his girth, she felt the pain lessen. In fact, whenever she moved, that same amazing sensation returned again, helping dull the pain. That movement also helped to dull some of the panic in Ichigo's voice, the feeling of being inside her distracting him.

"You were too big, so I couldn't fit all of you inside at first," she whispered with a playful pout, drawing away from his neck to take a look at his face, "But it... feels kind of good like this, too." She moved a little to illustrate her point, causing his eyes to flutter attractively as he watched her. His expression was slowly melting from piercing worry to fascinated ecstasy. Orihime couldn't help but lean forward and kiss him again.

"Don't joke like that," he whispered, breaking the kiss as his fingers tightened on her hips, "I thought I hurt you. I... don't handle blood well." In response, Orihime pressed him deeply into herself, gasping at the feeling of being filled completely.

"N-No, this... This feels amazing," she gasped as she established her rhythm. Her eyelashes obscured her eyes as her cherry lips parted, breathing whispered gasps of her pleasure. Ichigo responded eagerly, nipping at her lower lip and grinding forcefully into her. As soon as he'd been reassured that Orihime wasn't hurt, he seemed to have lost any hesitation.

In fact, Ichigo was becoming bolder and more aggressive now. He began by squeezing her hips until she gasped from the force. Even though it was a bit startling, Orihime couldn't help but moan for him to continue. In response to her devilish encouragement, one hand trailed up her back and tangled in her loose hair. His kisses even moved down from her mouth to her jaw, and ultimately to her throat, his teeth teasing her skin.

In one smooth motion, he tipped Orihime backwards, disentangling himself from her as he supported her slight weight with the hand at her back. Orihime's eyes went wide; she was sure her gaping face looked simply ridiculous. As she bent backwards and drew her legs up to keep from hurting them, though, she realized he was laying her on her back.

"Ku-Kurosaki-kun!" she cried as he came to his knees above her, "What are you-?" Orihime fell silent at the sight above her, though; he looked even more amazing like this.

"Won't it be easier like this?" he asked, finding her entrance once more. He pressed into her again, forcing a moan past Orihime's lips. It wasn't just easier; it felt different now. She didn't know if it was the altered angle from which he was now entering her or if it was just the thrill of being so vulnerable and open beneath him, but doing it like this felt even more amazing. Each time he thrust into her now, she thought she might die of the sheer pleasure of it right then and there.

They were sweating now, bodies slick and glistening in the dim lamplight. A gentle breeze wafted in from the nearly-drawn blinds of the northern patio, only cooling them a little. But when Ichigo finally covered Orihime's body with his own, even that bit of relief disappeared. As he kissed her again, his moans reverberating in the back of her mouth, she thought she might faint from the heat.

That was when it happened. The movement, the heat, the force, it was all too much. Orihime couldn't hold back her desperate voice, crying out as she felt some new force overtake her. Her body burned for a moment, the surge of scorching warmth followed by a wave of cool relief. She felt her muscles pulse around Ichigo, stroking him just as strongly as her hand had earlier. And even as the last ripples of this wonderful new feeling passed through her, she still couldn't fight back the desperate cries escaping her throat.

She could tell Ichigo had noticed it, too. His strokes had become shorter and harder, his breathing heavier and more urgent. Orihime felt herself relax against him, allowing him to bury himself completely inside her.

"Something... Something's happening," he gasped, his face tense. Orihime raised a hand to his face, smoothing over his hot, wet skin and back into his hair, threading her fingers through the short, orange spikes.

"It's okay," she said, arching her back to meet his increasingly rough strokes, "Let it go, Kurosaki-kun." With one last moan, he dove forward and connected with her lips again. Simultaneously, he drove himself deep inside her and then... froze.

She could feel it. He was hot, scorching, pulsating within her. There was something hot and wet filling her body now, thicker than water or her own fluids. It had coated her passage, leaving a slick, tingling sensation in its wake, heightening whatever contact she felt there. Was this the essence Tatsuki had talked about?

Ichigo slowly began to stir again. He moved away from Orihime's lips, burying his warm face in the crook of her neck and leaving her to gulp in the relatively cool night air. Even though he broke their kiss, Ichigo still didn't move again for several more minutes. Orihime took the opportunity presented to run her fingers through his fascinating hair and coo softly into his ear.

"Did you feel it, too?" she finally whispered, causing him to stir enough to face her, "That warm, blissful feeling?" A languid grin stretched across his face as he began to support his own weight enough to gently roll off her.

"Mmm," he affirmed, rolling to his side. He propped himself up on one elbow, his face betraying his fascination as he ran one hand down the length of Orihime's body. "I've never felt anything like that."

"Me neither," she confessed with a blushing smile, "It was amazing. iYou/i were amazing, Kurosaki-kun." He favored her with a lopsided grin, pulling her under his arm as he flopped onto his back.

"I could stand to hear that more often from you," he teased, nuzzling the crown of her head.

"You could stand to stay behind my curtain until dawn, too, you know," Orihime murmured playfully, her fingertips dancing lightly across his chest.

"I couldn't leave even if I wanted to now," he confessed to her hair, "You made me too tired."

* * *

Meanwhile that night, on the other side of the thin wall separating Orihime's room from Rangiku's, Orihime's three friends sat piled with their faces to the wall.

"Ooh, he really isn't half-bad," Rangiku said with glee, "I wonder if she'd share?"

"She's obviously smitten with him," Tatsuki answered, her voice short, "I just hope she doesn't think he can be any more than a fling. Some kid from the sticks is the last thing she needs."

"This is certainly romantic," the Princess added wistfully, "I would not dare risk this in my august brother's house." Her dog's tail thumped happily against the mats on the floor, causing the Princess to lay a calming hand on his head. "Hush, Zabimaru, they'll hear you."

"I don't think they can hear much of anything right now," Rangiku tittered, "I doubt they'd even notice the Hyakki Yakou marching through at this point." (6)

"True," Tatsuki agreed, engrossed in the spectacle before them, "They're really into it."

"I'm just glad she forgot to plug these holes," Rangiku said, her smirk audible. And then, turning back to the show: "You know, for being just a novice court guard, he certainly has a big sword."

The other two couldn't help but agree.

* * *

(1) Game of parts: a game in which part of a kanji is covered and the players are supposed to guess the kanji based solely on the radical and given clues. Ichigo is having trouble with it for obvious reasons.

(2) Rank was not given by merit, but by inheritance. While it was almost impossible for men to move up in rank (except by promotion), women could move up in rank through marriage or through their male family members. Sora, and thus Orihime, is of the fifth rank. The difference in income between fourth and fifth rank is a pay increase of about ten times the amount of rice allotted per year.

(3) Matchmakers, as the name implies, set up arranged marriages. While they're more informal and not actually necessary in modern Japan, as arranged marriages are less common, they were a necessity in Heian Japan, as all marriages were arranged.

(4) Affairs, on the part of both husband and wife, were not just common, they were usually fairly open about them. Many court ladies, for instance, were already married, but also had many lovers at court. Husbands, too, could have many open affairs. The biggest stigma usually came from one spouse ignoring the other in favor of these affairs.

(5) Promotions were announced on New Years Day. Not being promoted was so bad as to be something considered 'unmentionable', so when a servant had to announce his master hadn't been advanced for the year, they simply announced his current rank.

(6) Hyakki Yakou, literally 'Night Parade of a Hundred Demons' – a parade of youkai said to happen once a year in the summer time. Any humans who witnessed it would die.


	4. Chapter 4: Love Letter Never Sent

**Title:** Lady in Waiting, Chapter 4 - Love Letter Never Sent  
**Series:** Bleach  
**Rating:** R  
**Warnings:** AU, het (IchiHime), historical geekery  
**Spoilers:** This is AU. We don't need spoilers, where we're going.  
**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. This will probably (never) be updated weekly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Notes:** I apologize that this chapter is a bit shorter than what I'm used to. But it was just such a good place to end it off at and I didn't want to start into another section of the story and end the chapter on a less interesting note. That said, I've put reference books and links to articles on my profile page, so if you're interested in the Heian era and the stuff I've written about here, please take a look!

* * *

The dawn broke warm and moist, a light breeze tickling Ichigo's face from beneath the wooden blinds. He almost didn't register the change in color of the sky; it went from deepest black, to indigo, to a deep, steely gray, then on to a light, grayish purple. By the time his body finally began to respond to the changes in light, the sky was already a pale purplish pink streaked with clouds of pale gold; the sun was just below the horizon.

As soon as it registered to him that it was almost dawn, he sat bolt upright from Orihime's pallet and their makeshift nest of clothing. Eyes wild and panicked, he frantically searched out his hakama and the rest of his scattered clothing. If he stayed any longer, people would see him and start asking some very uncomfortable questions.(1) Before he could rise from his position, though, a soft hand moved over his, restraining him.

"Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime murmured, her eyes barely registering him. Although Ichigo's heart was racing frantically from his abrupt wake up call, the sight of her lovely face made him smile. Her deep auburn hair was splayed haphazardly around her head, charmingly tangled from a half-night of sleep and from their other activities. She had barely cracked her eyes open from between thick lashes to look at him before letting them drift shut again. As she did so, he noticed the petal soft lips he'd finally gotten to touch the previous night; they were a pale pink, their surface velvety soft and inviting. To Ichigo's mind, they were begging to be kissed just one more time.

"I'm here, Inoue," he reassured her, his voice husky from sleep. The edges of her mouth turned up in a smile, warming Ichigo's heart. Well, one more kiss certainly wouldn't hurt.

He leaned forward, breathing in her scent; it spoke of sleep and incense and his own skin. Having picked up a thing or two from the petite woman beneath him, he stopped a hair's width from her succulent mouth and simply exhaled. He then darted his tongue between his lips, probing the line of her mouth and wetting her lips until they parted for him. Then, he pounced.

The kiss was far gentler than anything they'd shared the previous night. It was sleepy and sedate, slow and languorous. And still, it was unerringly sensual; as he nibbled her lower lip and prodded her with his tongue, he felt her stir. At first it was only a tiny muffled moan, responding to his kiss, but it was soon followed by her rolling onto her back, then moving her hands up to cup his cheek and trail further back to his hair. Ichigo quickly realized that if he continued kissing her, there would be an encore of last night, and he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

"I gotta go," he mumbled into her mouth, reluctant to give up the kiss. A second later, though, she pulled back of her own accord.

"Try not to be seen, okay?" she said, voice heavy with sleep. Her eyes were still barely open and if the fingers on his cheek were any indication, she was on the verge of falling back to sleep already.

"I'll be back tonight," he promised, giving her one last impulsive peck before finally rising to search out his discarded clothing.

Once Orihime was settled firmly back into her bedding, Ichigo's panic returned full-force. The light from outside was growing ever stronger; if he was going to escape at all, it would have to be very soon.

He had never stayed this late before. Every other time he'd visited her, he'd left whenever she fell asleep, locking the door behind him. At that time of night, always somewhere before the end of the first half of the first watch,(2) it was quiet and he could escape undetected. But this time of morning, servants were bound to be up and around, as well as some members of the nobility. In winter, they'd be out stoking the braziers, but as it was summer, they were mostly preoccupied with housekeeping and other menial chores. Ichigo hoped they'd be too busy to notice him make his escape.

And escaping through the northern veranda was out of the question. Even if it hadn't been reinforced with a rather powerful barrier like every other opening on the palace grounds, the northern direction was hugely unlucky. Ichigo spared half a thought to the irony of a kirin, of all things, being worried about being cursed. But even he knew going out that way would draw too much attention.

Finally, he slid his overcoat into place, took one last look at his beloved courtesan, and made a beeline for the palace grounds the way he'd came.

* * *

All through breakfast, Orihime could hear their restless whispers.

The first few times, she dismissed it as paranoia, but after a couple minutes of hushed comments and giggling hidden by large sleeves, Orihime knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the subject of the other ladies' discussion. As breakfast wore on, she grew more and more uncomfortable, squirming in her place and barely paying any attention to her rice.

Judging by the looks on their faces, Rangiku and Tatsuki had noticed, as well. The Princess Imperial was just as oblivious as ever, for which Orihime was thankful; she was sure her face was blotchy and red from embarrassment.

"Last night was certainly interesting," one of the girls, Meiko, declared from behind her sleeves, "I heard some of the palace _guards_ performing some kind of _exercise_ during the ninth watch..." Orihime hid behind her ohashi, wanting to disappear entirely. A few of the other girls laughed daintily behind their sleeves.

"I believe they were performing some kind of _drill_," Keiko bantered back, eliciting another wave of giggles. By this point, Tatsuki and Rangiku had picked up on what was being said and were less than pleased.

"It's too bad the only _drill_ Keiko-chan knows anything about involves her hand and a calligraphy brush," Tatsuki snarked from behind her own sleeve.(3) Her mouth turned up in a sneer of challenge as the other woman's mouth turned down in an angry pout.

"Why, I heard the poor dear has no one to _practice_ with but _kind_ old Oomaeda-san," Rangiku added, sparking another fit of giggles as the girl in question turned a violent reddish-purple.

"At least he's of better birth than that imbecilic Asano-san or that crusty Captain of the Guard!"(4) Keiko declared in a fit of pique. Tatsuki gave the flustered girl her best predatory smile before moving in for the kill.

"At least those two have calligraphy brushes bigger than their hands," she quipped, leaving no one in doubt as to who had won the morning's verbal sparring match.

Keiko turned from the table with an angry huff to talk more with Meiko, loudly declaring she had no more time to spend on such crass women. And finally, as the dishes were cleared away and the morning's poetry and drawing contests began, the Princess Imperial herself came to settle with her friends.

"Don't pay any attention to them, Orihime-chan," Rangiku said, laying a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder, "They're just jealous they don't have a guard as cute as yours." Orihime carefully studied her lap, her fingers twisting themselves into knots. As the blush on her face deepened, her head shot up in surprise.

"Y-You saw him?" she asked, mortified.

"Oh yes!" Rangiku happily proclaimed, "You forgot to plug up those holes, you know! He's not a bad catch at all! Why, from behind, he looks just like a perfectly round little peach!" As Tatsuki scolded her, Orihime hid her face behind her sleeves, embarrassed beyond all belief.

"R-Rangiku-san, I can't believe you watched us!" she cried, heavily distressed, "And you were looking at his bottom, too!"

"His calligraphy brush was also quite fine," the Princess added thoughtfully, referring back to their earlier conversation. Her ever-present canine companion seemed to grumble at her cheerful proclamation. Orihime, on the other hand, let out a plaintive wail before turning away from her friends and throwing herself to the floor to bury her face in the cushions there.

"You three!" she cried, "You're worse than the others!" Her friends dismissed this with waves of their hands and little scoffing noises.

"Oh, come on, Orihime," Tatsuki said, pulling the over-dramatic redhead back up to a sitting position, "We're proud of you. Now stop being so embarrassed about everything." This still didn't do much to quell her deep blush.

"She's right, Orihime-chan," Rangiku continued kindly. Orihime nodded shyly.

"Th-Thank you," she said quietly, "Especially for taking up for me just now with Keiko-chan and Meiko-chan."

"They had it coming," Tatsuki rebuffed her gratitude gently, "I can't stand catty girls like that."

"Then you must despise half the court," the Princess said quietly to her black-haired companion. Although she couldn't openly censure those girls as much as she wanted, there were always ways to do it subtly.

"So~" Rangiku said expectantly, turning the conversation back to Orihime, "Let us see it!" The other two girls turned back toward her, their focus suddenly intent. Orihime simply stared at her companions in confusion.

"See what?" she asked innocently, puzzled as to what they expected of her.

"The letter, of course!" Rangiku happily chirped.

"What letter?" Orihime honestly couldn't recall the last time she'd received a letter - so many flew about the palace in the hands of messengers on a daily basis - or which letter they could even be talking about.

"You know," Tatsuki said in a conspiratorial whisper, "The letter! The one a man sends after he's spent the night!" Orihime found herself blushing again as her three friends focused all their attention on her.

"Umm," she said shyly, "I... actually haven't gotten one from him. Ever."

Her friends' faces went from eager to utterly flabbergasted in the blink of an eye. To say it was odd for a man not to have sent his lover any correspondence at all was a bit of an understatement; the men of the court often competed with each other in the arts of poetry and calligraphy, so for a man to neglect something as basic as writing a letter to his lover was absolutely horrifying.

"What kind of despicable-"

"How utterly vile of him!"

"I'll see to it that my august brother strips him of his rank and gives him thirty lashes!"

The angry responses had Orihime confused and upset, but the threat of corporal punishment literally brought tears to her eyes.

"I-I don't understand!" she cried, "Did Kurosaki-kun do something wrong? I haven't written him either, but I know he'll come every night anyway!"

"Even if he hadn't written you before, he should've at least sent you a letter this morning," Rangiku said, folding her arms indignantly.

"Not sending one is about the worst insult you can give a girl!" Tatsuki proclaimed angrily. Now Orihime was beginning to worry.

"Why is it an insult?" she asked, fighting to keep tears from falling. If she cried there in front of everyone, the others would just make fun of her again. How was she expected to know these things? It was still just her first time!

"The only thing that should keep a man from sending a letter the morning after is if he had an abysmal time the evening before," Rangiku said thoughtfully. Tatsuki also looked as though she was pondering this as well.

"Even that buffoon Asano sends letters," she remarked, causing Orihime's eyebrows to rise, "They're terrible and overwrought beyond belief, but he does send them."

"Asano-san visits your room?" Orihime asked innocently, causing Tatsuki to blush.

"Err, only when I let him," Tatsuki replied hesitantly, "Otherwise he just taps on the door all night long and won't let me sleep."(5)

"Well," the Princess interjected, drawing their attention back away from their tangent, "Orihime-chan's visitor certainly seemed to be enjoying himself last night."

"Perhaps he hasn't been able to find a courier or he's been otherwise occupied this morning," Rangiku reasoned, "But what could be more important than this?" Orihime seized upon this idea almost violently.

"That has to be it!" she declared, "He's just busy with his patrols o-or hasn't had the time! It's barely even the Hour of the Snake,(6) I'm sure he'll send something before the end of the watch!"

Even though Orihime's voice seemed cheerful, Rangiku and Tatsuki gave one another a knowing look. It was quite obvious she was forcing a smile onto her face now, as she often did when things were rough.

* * *

Lunch came and went, the day progressively growing gloomier and more oppressive. By supper time, however, Orihime was absolutely miserable. And if the titters and pointed looks from the other girls were any indication, they'd picked up on her gloom as well.

"Do you think castration is too good for him?" Tatsuki asked idly, picking up a piece of writing paper and studying its opacity. Rangiku sniffed, loading her own brush with ink.

"Being a eunuch is definitely too good for him,"(7) she replied curtly, "Ooh, I know! The Princess Imperial could have him exiled to the provinces!" Orihime put her head down and mewled in agony.

"Your highness, please don't listen to them," she whimpered, "I like all his parts where they are and I don't want him to be exiled!" Tatsuki put her paper down in consternation.

"Don't tell me you're still hung up on that ignorant hick," she huffed, leveling a stern look at her friend. Orihime flinched under the weight of her stare.

"He's slighted and embarrassed you in front of everyone," Rangiku sniffed coldly, "He doesn't deserve a second chance." Her words brought the pain in Orihime's chest to a head. She didn't want to think Ichigo had been so inconsiderate and hurtful on purpose; he wasn't like that, was he?

"Rangiku-san is right," the Princess finally said, nodding, "I'll send a letter to the Captain of the Guard and have him censured."

"And if that doesn't work, I'll tell the Captain myself," Rangiku huffed, placing her hands on her hips, tied back sleeves swishing at her sides.

Instead of answering, Orihime rose, allowing her face to fall into shadow beneath her bangs. Her lips and tiny fists, however, were trembling.

"I'm going to turn in early," she murmured, quietly excusing herself with a swish of silk. Tatsuki, Rangiku, and the Princess watched her go, concerned looks on their faces. Worse than that, they could hear the pointed whispers and giggles from the other girls that followed Orihime out of the room. Of course the others had noticed by now.

* * *

Ichigo's day couldn't have been any more different.

As soon as he'd stepped out of the palace and found a convenient hiding place, he'd changed back to his kirin form and headed for the neighboring forests. There, he'd spent his morning gamboling happily about and chasing small forest creatures for the fun of it. He ate, he drank from a small stream, and when the sun was highest in the sky, he found a leafy outcropping to take a nap in.

By the time he woke, the sun was hanging low in the western horizon, casting deep and flickering shadows across the forest floor. Ichigo rose, stretched his gangly legs, and yawned. After shaking his mane out and finally fully waking up, he felt a rush of excitement overtake him; he'd slept until it was almost time to see Orihime again! Since it wouldn't do for him to rush right out of the woods and across the palace lawns until he was certain he wouldn't be seen, he paced the leaf-littered forest floor, his excitement making him tremble.

He had a companion now! He wasn't sure of the human word for it - lover? Consort? They weren't married, so she couldn't be his wife, but oh, if she could! Maybe she'd tell him how they could go about being married! They could have a little house like his parents and maybe even little human babies of their own...

And then his thoughts froze. It wouldn't be possible to live that closely with her; he'd have to maintain human form all the time, after all, and that might grow taxing after too long. He wasn't exactly keen on her finding out about his true nature, and she'd wonder if he was gone every day for no reason. And what if someone came to hurt her while he was out? She was safely ensconced in the walls of the palace now, but if they lived in a little house together, he would be her only protection and companionship. And what if she'd just rather things stay as they were now, so she could be with her friends?

These thoughts gave Ichigo pause and caused him to fold his legs beneath his body in contemplation. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself here. He didn't exactly know how humans carried on relationships of this nature; he'd only seen one liaison, after all, and that was only for one night. What if those two humans didn't talk the way he talked to Orihime? Or what if she didn't feel as strongly for him as he did for her? She did see other humans all day, every day, after all.

"Aww, _dammit_!" he grumbled, covering his head with his hooves and scrunching his eyes shut. Was he thinking too much about this? Or had he not thought about this enough the night before? The more he thought, the more his enthusiasm turned to apprehension. He could hardly wait to see her again and find out what she wanted to do.

But the sun seemed to be mocking him, hanging just level with the horizon for so long before dipping completely beneath it. And even then, once the last sliver of the sun had sunk behind the forests, the light lingered on, making it impossible for him to dart across the palace grounds to Orihime's room. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the light faded to an acceptable level. The world turned grayish, dusky purple and the fireflies came out to dance over the well-kept lawns of the royal world. As Ichigo watched them through parted branches, he could barely contain the wobble in his tall, thin legs; it was like they were leading him down an enchanted path to his lover's room.

As he finally gamboled across the lawn, he could clearly see Orihime's room. The lights were burning lower than usual, casting the room in a dim, pale glow. Stranger yet, she seemed to already be in her bed, back turned to the open veranda. Ichigo watched her in fascination, thinking at first that she might have been asleep; her form was very still and seemed to almost even be devoid of breath at all. Had she fallen asleep waiting for him? What if she hadn't moved at all today? He couldn't have hurt her the night before, could he?

But before he could worry, her shoulders shook ever-so-slightly and she stirred, moving her arms. As Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief, she began to move, rolling jerkily towards the veranda to face him. As her face came into view, however, he was struck with a piercing horror; she was crying.

A mixture of mortification and anger flooded through Ichigo. Why was she crying? Who had made her cry? Why did she look so utterly miserable? Should he try to find out from her who had hurt her and then go rough them up, or should he just try to comfort her? Either way, panic seized him as he rushed towards cover that would allow him to change back into his human form. He needed to be by her side as soon as possible.

As soon as he could, he found himself inside the palace, shoving past couriers and servants, and barreling towards her door. He slid it open with a hasty 'bang' and threw the blinds back, rattling loudly as they went. As he stepped inside the room and the blinds clattered down behind him, he quickly scanned the back to see that Orihime's curtain of state was exactly where he'd left it that morning.

"Inoue?" he asked, his voice strained, "Inoue, are you okay?"

He was answered with no sounds of stirring from behind the curtain, as though she was lying perfectly still and refusing to move. The only way he even knew she was there was from the choked sound of a sniffle that she couldn't quite contain. Ichigo couldn't take it anymore. He had to get behind that curtain and see her. He would hold her until she stopped crying and then he'd absolutely destroy whatever had made her cry in the first place. As he moved forward, though, she finally spoke.

"Don't come near me," she said from behind the curtain, causing Ichigo to come to a halt. He felt as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over his head.

"What... What's wrong?" he replied shakily, "Inoue, why are you crying?" He could hear her shift slightly before presumably drawing her robe over her head.

"I don't want to talk to you again," her choked and muffled voice came from behind the curtain, "Just go away and leave me alone!"

Ichigo felt his knees go weak and his stomach flip. He thought he might be sick on the spot. Just this morning, they were in love, weren't they? What happened? Why was she suddenly acting like this? His jaw hung slack as he stared at the curtain, Orihime's faint outline visible in the dim light. He brought a hand to his chest, feeling the pain twisting inside now. What was this feeling?

His heartbeat hammered in his ears, drowning out all other sound as he took one numb step backward. Not knowing what else to do, he moved toward the door.

"I... I'm sorry, Inoue," he muttered hoarsely, "I'll... leave you alone, if that's what you want."

Orihime waited behind her curtain, not even turning to face his direction as he left. A few moments passed before the blinds clattered again and the door slid shut. Then, all was silence.

* * *

1. It was customary for a lover to leave his lady's apartment before dawn. By staying so long, Ichigo risks being seen by the servants.

2. About 1am.

3. As the Heian era was decidedly non-violent, most clashes took place with lines of poetry. Here, Tatsuki and Rangiku are showing the other girls up with puns instead.

4. Rank played such an important social role that it's understandable that Keigo and Shuuhei would be seen as less desirable than someone like Oomaeda, who is at least Third Rank. Most of the Imperial Police and Guards were rough men from the provinces and were viewed as little more than ruffians or barbarians.

5. This was a common way for men to initiate a sexual encounter with a woman. If Tatsuki really didn't want to let him in, she could have just opted to not open the door.

6. About 9 or 10am.

7. While Japan didn't employ eunuchs, they would've been known to the Heian court ladies since they were outstanding figures in Chinese history and literature. Even though they were technically only servants, they were well-known for having a heavy hand in government affairs – hence castration being too kind a fate for Ichigo.


	5. Chapter 5: The Lesson

**Title:** Lady in Waiting, Chapter 5 - The Lesson

**Warnings:** AU, het (IchiHime), historical geekery

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. The LiveJournal format that you'll probably be reading this in (if you're one of my friends) is rough draft and is subject to revision. Consider this a 'sneak peek'. If something sits the wrong way with you, let me know. This will probably (never) be updated weekly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Note:** I should apologize for the horrible cliffhanger I left this story on last time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! See, I didn't forget about it!

* * *

Ichigo crossed one long leg over the other, sighing as he lay in the cool grass. He'd been readjusting himself like this for the better part of a watch now, and with good reason. He was completely unable to get comfortable.

It wasn't a physical thing, though. Oh no, the grass itself was perfectly soft and comfortable. Whoever maintained the grounds did an excellent job. And the night air wasn't too humid or too chilly; it was just right. No, this was a completely mental thing.

He'd been unable to think, much less eat or do anything more strenuous all day long. The reason why was obvious; she was currently undressing for bed before her half-opened blinds. Ichigo watched her longingly in silence. Who knew a girl could be the cause of such malaise?

He figured this was the worst he'd ever felt in his whole life. Worse than being tired or hungry. Worse than the time he ate poisonous mushrooms by accident. Worse than wading into a stream in winter. Objectively, the current situation might even be worse than what had caused him to leave home in the first place.

He could tell that Orihime herself wasn't doing much better. As he watched her, he could tell she was absolutely miserable. She had turned her friends away and was in the process of turning in early tonight as well. Even more condemning, she'd been crying off and on all evening. What was worse, Ichigo had no idea _why_.

She was the one who had turned him away, so shouldn't she be happy? Why was she sad instead? What had he done to upset her? Perhaps she regretted what they'd done together? Or what if she had been told she had to marry someone else? His mind ran in circles with the possibilities until he was dizzy. It was a good thing he was laying down on the grass.

"What the hell is your problem?" A snide feline voice came from Ichigo's right, causing his ears to perk up. "You look like someone beat you."

Ichigo looked over to see the steel gray bakeneko padding across the grass towards him, his twin tails waving in the night air. He really wasn't in any mood to deal with Grimmjow right now.

"Shut up, Grimmjow," he grumbled, tucking his chin between his hooves. The cat seemed to be smiling, if that was at all possible. He walked around him, surveying him with twitching ears and tails, before speaking again.

"So that girl kicked you out?" he asked, finally coming to sit on his haunches, "Eh, who needs her? You can do better anyway."

"I don't want to 'do better'," Ichigo grumbled, trying his best to ignore the cat. Grimmjow simply began bathing his paw.

"Don't tell me," he said around a mouthful of fur, "She saw that horn of yours and got scared and ran away." To say this was a sore subject at the moment was a bit of an understatement. Ichigo's hoof came down hard on the cat's tails.

"It's not like _you've_ ever done that with a human girl, so shut up!" Ichigo nearly roared. He figured that was the one thing he had as leverage against Grimmjow. The nekomata simply shrieked in indignation from having his poor tails abused so. Ichigo was rewarded for his trouble with a slash across the face from his claws.

"Don't get cocky, asshole!" Grimmjow hissed before turning to soothe his bruised tail, "Just because I haven't yet doesn't mean I won't. I've almost got this human form stuff down. Watch."

With that, the cat began to change, his form rippling like water as the change coursed through him. The fur fell away from his face and his limbs lengthened, small feline toes unfurling into the long, strong fingers of a man. His ears shortened and migrated down his head, retaining a small point on the ends. And as the fur atop his head transformed into a full head of shaggy turquoise hair, he gave it a small shake, causing it to stand on end. As he completed his change, the only thing besides the color of his hair that gave away his supernatural leanings were his teal-colored eyes; the pupils were oval and glittered in the low, evening light.

"Well?" he asked with a toothy smirk, "What do you think?" Ichigo snorted.

"You still look like a freak," he grumbled, earning a kick to his ribs from the turquoise-haired man. He butted him with the edges of his horns, throwing him a few paces in retaliation. The cat quickly shifted back and landed upright with a growl.

"At least put some damn clothes on," Ichigo huffed, settling himself back on the grass, "And do something about that hair." Grimmjow simply sneered.

"I can't help the hair," he retorted, pacing just around the edges of Ichigo's reach, "And I can't just wish up clothes like you. I'll have to steal some." If a kirin could shrug, that's what he was doing.

"Just get some," he instructed, "You won't get very far naked." As he lay his head back down, though, an idea occurred to him.

"Hey, Grimmjow," he asked, "If I can get you some clothes, would you ask that Rangiku lady what's wrong with Inoue?" The cat grinned.

"If you get me some clothes, she'll be too busy to talk," he said boldly, "But I think I can fit it in..." Ichigo perked up a bit at that.

"Thanks, Grimmjow," he rumbled, "I'll get 'em first thing in the morning."

* * *

Ichigo cursed his promise to Grimmjow the night before.

The laundry ladies were currently absorbed in their work, washing the palace's robes, belts, and hakama. Oh, there were certainly plenty of garments Ichigo could choose from, but he found himself confronted by a couple of problems.

First and foremost were the laundry women themselves. They were busily buzzing about, heating the washing kettles, stirring the laundry, and hanging the garments out to dry. Even though they were all occupied, there were simply too many of them. If Ichigo tried anything, he was sure to be seen.

The second problem was Ichigo's ignorance of human clothing in general. He'd chosen to disguise himself as a guard mostly because their outfits were simple to remember, both in color and design. But the guards' laundry was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were a plethora of robes, kimono, and jackets that Ichigo knew belonged to women. The men's clothing, if indeed there was any to be had at all, blended in with the rest so flawlessly that Ichigo couldn't find it.

Worse still, even if Ichigo managed to locate a man's hakama, kimono, overrobe, and belt, there was no guarantee they'd all match properly.

Finally, after hours of watching the women tend their work, Ichigo was brought out of his reverie by noticing that the women seemed to be doing something a bit different. The sun was directly overhead, and the kirin figured it to be close to the beginning of the seventh watch; a moment later, the sound of the court onmyouji striking the time confirmed his suspicions. [1]

At the sounding of the time, the women began to chat animatedly and move into the shade of their quarters. Ichigo imagined they were going to eat or take a break from the midday heat. Either way, his ears perked forward at his stroke of luck. Now was his chance!

The kirin darted out of his shady hiding spot, hooves pounding the well-manicured grass hard as he descended the hill. Finally finding himself at the bottom, he searched for the garments he'd already decided on. They were all the same shade of green and looked to be made for a man, so Ichigo figured they'd be his best bet to find something that looked right.

He darted and pranced, gently pulling the coarse silk off the drying racks with his horns and teeth. He didn't want to stretch or tear the fabric. As he examined the garments up close, he could tell the seams were nice and tight, and that the fabric was a decent weight. Yes, these would do just fine.

Finally satisfied at his conquest, Ichigo held the slightly damp garments firmly between his teeth and took off from the bottom of the hill like a shot. He could hang them on branches in the woods to dry them, but the important part was that he just get away with them first.

* * *

Ichigo paced nervously at the edge of the wooded lawn, pawing the soft earth in impatience. He knew Grimmjow would probably be all night, but he hardly wanted to wait that long.

He had watched Orihime turn in early again that night, a miserable expression on her pallid face. It was hardly late yet - barely past the start of the twelfth watch [2]- but already she slept soundly beneath her small mound of thin robes. Just the sight of that unmoving lump of cloth made Ichigo's heart ache. This scheme of his and Grimmjow's was taking far too long. At this rate, she was going to think him completely heartless.

Ichigo was so absorbed in his pitiful thoughts that he failed to notice the soft pitter-patter of cat feet as they approached. It wasn't until Grimmjow flopped at his feet with a wet 'thud' that Ichigo registered the ayakashi.

"O-Oi," he grunted, looking the battered cat over, "You're back early! What happened?" Grimmjow cracked an eye open wearily.

"Damn woman," he growled, "She saw those green clothes and freaked out! Said they weren't good enough for her or something. [3] Dammit all!" Ichigo suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"So what does that have to do with you looking like you fell down a mountain?" the kirin asked, worried. Grimmjow flopped to his other side with a grunt.

"When I wouldn't leave, she started hitting me with a flowerpot," the cat grumbled, "And a clothes rack. And her fan! And a shelf! And she said my hair was stupid!" As much as Grimmjow normally liked to be aloof and even somewhat cruel, Ichigo could tell his pride was wounded. He almost felt sorry for the angry cat.

"That's harsh," Ichigo conceded, laying his head back down on his legs. Grimmjow flopped onto his back, obviously trying to find the position that would relieve his bruises easiest.

"Human women," Grimmjow snorted, "Why're they so damn complicated! Cats are easy! When they move their tails over, you know they want some! I just don't get these humans!" As crass a sentiment as it was, Ichigo somehow found himself agreeing against his better judgment. He just didn't understand human women as well as he thought he did either.

"Tell me about it."

* * *

Things continued in much the same vein for several days. Ichigo was unhappy, Grimmjow was unhappy, and Orihime was unhappy. In fact, the only one who seemed even remotely happy was Rangiku, and Ichigo figured that was just because she didn't have to put up with the nekomata's near-constant complaints.

One night about five nights after the incident with the green clothes, something different happened. Unlike the other nights since Orihime had dismissed Ichigo, she didn't return to her room before sunset. In fact, as the eleventh watch gave way to the twelfth, the lights in her room remained unlit. And when the first watch was finally struck, Ichigo genuinely began to worry.

He checked the open verandas of the ladies' wing. Rangiku was in her room, reading and writing letters. The girl with the short, black hair, Tatsuki, was playing Go with someone on the opposite side of her screen. And the girl Ichigo recognized as the princess was fast asleep in her robes, fluffy guardian curled up by her face. He could even feel the dog watching him as he passed by.

Dejected and utterly worried by this point, Ichigo mulled over his options. It seemed there was only one thing he could do now.

Several minutes later, he let the blinds noisily fall back into place in Rangiku's doorway. [4] He watched nervously as the stately blonde woman sat up from her reading and turned to face him on the other side of her curtain. If he wasn't careful, he was sure she'd hit him with a flowerpot, too.

"Shuuhei, that's not you, is it?" she called from behind her curtain, "I thought you had duty tonight?" Ichigo cleared his throat and swallowed his nervousness.

"Err, sorry," he said slowly, "I'm not him." Rangiku sat still for a second, as though she was thinking of something.

"You're that awful red-headed boy!" she finally declared, causing Ichigo to flinch, "If you think I'll make an exception for you just because Orihime-chan rejected you, you are sorely mistaken!"

"Exception?" he asked, having a feeling that he already knew what the feisty woman meant, "No, it's... it's not that!" This didn't exactly seem to placate her.

"Then what is it?" she huffed, "I don't have time for rude little country bumpkins!" Ichigo was already feeling this might be pointless.

"Inoue," he said firmly, "Why isn't she in her room?"

"Why do you care where she is?" the sharp-tongued woman answered, "You didn't care enough to write her after you deflowered her!"

Now Ichigo was well and truly stumped. Write her? What did that even mean? How did one 'write' another person? As far as Ichigo knew, one only wrote kanji and kana onto sheets of paper with brushes and ink. Whatever it was, Ichigo had the feeling this was what he'd done to get himself rejected.

"Wait," he finally told the angry woman, "How do I 'write' her?" The silhouette paused and cocked its head to the side.

"What do you mean, how do you write her?" she asked in disbelief, "You find some paper and you write her a letter! What are you, stupid?" Well, Ichigo certainly felt stupid right about now, but that didn't mean he was going to just take that. She'd gone too far now.

"Look, lady," he finally barked, "I can't help it if I don't know this crap! Do you think I wanted her to get mad at me? You think I wanted her to kick me out? We're both miserable right now, and I didn't even know I was supposed to write this letter thing for her! If I knew how, I'd have done it already!"

There was a pause as Ichigo caught his breath and the woman on the other side of the curtain was very, very still. He felt somewhat satisfied at her silence; that would teach her to mock him.

Finally, she burst into peals of laughter.

"Wh-What's so damn funny?" he demanded, nearly yelling again.

"You... You really don't even know what a letter is?" she asked, gasping for air, "I bet you don't even know your naniwazu!" [5] Ichigo had to think back for a moment to where he'd heard that word before. The last time he'd heard it was when his mother had taught it to him.

_'A real gentleman,' she'd said, 'knows how to read and write beautifully.'_

"I... I do, too!" he protested, "I just... haven't done it in years. That's all." This did nothing to quiet the laughing blonde.

"Is that why you didn't write poor Orihime-chan, then?" she finally said, dabbing at her eyes with the hem of her sleeves, "She was just devastated, you know. She waited all day for you to write her, and when you didn't, the other girls made terrible fun of her." Ichigo felt his cheeks burn with shame. No wonder Orihime had kicked him out.

"I don't... I don't know how to write a letter," he admitted, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. Perhaps he imagined it, but it felt like Rangiku's expression softened a bit.

"That's a poor excuse," she said with a hint of amusement still in her voice, "But you certainly have to learn if you want Orihime-chan to forgive you. It won't do for her to carry on an affair with an illiterate hillbilly." Ichigo huffed a bit, but he knew it was true.

"How do I... go about learning?" he asked sheepishly. The woman behind the curtain brought the hem of her sleeve to her mouth.

"Can you not get one of the other guards to teach you?" she asked. Ichigo's mind raced for an appropriate excuse.

"That's... That would be too embarrassing," he grumbled, "And I'm not sure they know anyway." Rangiku chuckled knowingly.

"A good few of them do," she said, "But I can understand your hesitation. Hmm..." Ichigo finally thought he might've struck upon a solution.

"What if... I tell you what to write, and you write it for me?" This caused the blonde to break out into uncontrollable giggles again.

"In the first place," she started, holding up a slender finger, "Orihime-chan will be able to tell it's my writing. And in the second, I sincerely doubt you could compose a decent letter if you don't even know how to write." [6] Ichigo felt indignant, even though he again knew that it was quite true.

"Then... can you teach me how to write?" he asked hopefully. Rangiku looked as though she was considering it.

"Do you even know how to hold a brush?" Rangiku asked skeptically, "It's not like holding your bow or sword." Ichigo felt his cheeks color at that remark.

"I... I know that!" he sputtered, "And I know how to hold one! I can even write my own name!" Somehow, saying it out loud made it sound ridiculous. Rangiku sighed in response.

"I suppose I could teach you enough to write a letter I've composed for you before Orihime-chan comes back," she finally said, causing Ichigo to go still with anticipation. Then, he realized something that he'd been too caught up in the moment to notice before.

"Wait," he said, a bit of apprehension creeping into his tone, "Where is Inoue? You never told me." Rangiku paused for a moment before answering.

"She's having her monthly visit with her brother," [6] she said delicately. The double-meaning flew right over Ichigo's poor head.

"O-Oh," he replied, blushing at Rangiku's tone even without knowing why, "So... how long do we have before she comes back?"

"Oh, about five to seven days," Rangiku answered, causing Ichigo to wonder why she didn't know how long the visit would last. Eh, maybe she lost track of time while she was having fun with her brother.

* * *

Those seven days passed quickly enough. Ichigo spent every evening after dark in Rangiku's room, practicing the shapes needed to write his letter. Rangiku would explain to him the meanings of that day's kanji and kana, and then she would put him to work. Most nights he didn't leave until it was nearly dawn.

A few of those nights, she sent him to Orihime's room to practice in private. Rangiku had regular visitors and she made no secret of the fact that she didn't want him seen in her room. Aside from his very obvious inferior class, she didn't want any rumors about the two of them having a relationship to start. Ichigo understood very well why; Orihime would be devastated if she heard something like that and Rangiku had at least one suitor of her own.

Finally, at the end of those seven days, Rangiku gave Ichigo a few sheets of fresh, pale blue paper.

"Tonight, you're actually going to write your letter," she instructed him from behind her screen, "I gave you extra paper in case you mess up. Once it's written, we'll practice folding it appropriately on other sheets of paper, and then we'll fold your letter."

Ichigo thought for sure this was the hardest lesson yet. He had gotten used to writing so many characters in a row over the past six days, so that part passed without incident. His script was neat and legible and totally restrained in the way that someone who's only just learned to write can make their characters. But the writing was the easy part.

No, what had him utterly frustrated was folding the damn letter. Rangiku had insisted that nothing less than a perfectly knotted letter would suffice, and as such had him practice tying knots until he could get it just right. He tied knots until his hands ached. He must have tied at least a hundred over the course of the night. But finally, he tied several in a row that were absolutely flawless and Rangiku deigned his folding abilities to be sufficient to tie his letter to Orihime.

As a finishing touch, the blonde had him tuck a few sprigs of baby's breath and a small spray of tiny blue flowers into the knot. [7] Once that was done, he laid the letter behind Orihime's screen on her small, square pillow and breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally done; now all he had to do was wait.

* * *

Orihime arrived back at the palace the next day sometime around the beginning of the seventh watch. Ichigo had concealed himself behind some underbrush to watch for her arrival; as soon as he saw motion in her room, he perked his head up, ears flicking forward.

Almost as soon as she came into view, though, Ichigo could tell something was wrong. Something about the way she was moving seemed uncanny somehow. As he continued to watch, he realized she was favoring her right side just a bit, as well as paying special attention to her right shoulder. Her expression also hadn't changed during the time she'd been gone; she still looked as miserable and depressed as ever.

Ichigo's heart ached. Maybe she had just been in an accident of some kind, but if that was the case, why did she still look so down-hearted? The thought that someone may have harmed her entered his mind. He wanted to believe the best of her brother, but what if it was him? Or someone in their household? The mere idea of anyone laying hands on Orihime made his blood boil.

All that was soon pushed aside as he watched her discover his letter. He saw her face cycle through several different emotions upon picking it up; first surprise, then curiosity, then joy, then tears. Ichigo worried a bit at that last part until he heard her shout happily. She tucked the flowers behind her ear, then dashed unevenly towards the doorway of her room, waving the letter like a little flag before her.

He watched as her friends - Rangiku, the princess, and the other black-haired girl - flooded into the room, poring over the letter and chatting happily as Orihime read it out loud to them. And if he wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw the black-haired one give her blonde friend a knowing look.

After that, the watches couldn't pass by quickly enough. Ichigo knew that in future, he'd have to find a way to procure paper, a brush, ink, and actual writing talent if he wanted to keep visiting Orihime, but at the moment, he didn't care much. He was happy enough that she was pleased with what he'd given her.

Finally, the sun began to sink and dusk fell. After prancing around on wobbly legs for the hottest part of the day, Ichigo watched eagerly as the girl who'd haunted his thoughts for the past month disrobed and got ready for bed. Before he could sprint down to her room, however, he saw something that gave him pause.

As she turned her back to her open veranda, the breath caught in Ichigo's throat. There, all down her right shoulder and hip, was a dark purple bruise. He fretted, pawing the ground in place. There was no way something like that was accidental, right?

Finally catching hold of his thoughts, Ichigo spurred himself across the lawn and to her room. It felt like he couldn't get there fast enough. He wanted to hold her and make sure she was alright and apologize for the past two weeks. And for once, he didn't really care who saw him.

"Inoue!"

The shout and the noisy clatter of blinds caused the girl sitting behind the curtain to jump a bit.

"Kurosaki-kun!" came the cheery response, "You came!" Even knowing she might be hurt, Ichigo couldn't suppress a grin at her tone. She really had missed him as much as he'd missed her.

Pushing the screen aside (and almost toppling it altogether in his eagerness), Ichigo drew the much smaller girl into his arms for a tight hug. Upon feeling her squirm in discomfort, he recalled her injuries and stopped hugging so hard, but did not release her. Instead, he pulled back to get a good look at her.

"I'm sorry, Inoue," he whispered, laying one hand on her cheek to draw her face up to look at it, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know, I..." She silenced him with a finger to his lips and a small smile, tears in her eyes.

"It's alright, Kurosaki-kun," she said, smiling through her tears, "I'm sorry I hurt you, too. You didn't know. I-I'm sorry..." Ichigo silenced her needless apologies with a short kiss.

"I missed you," he breathed happily, pulling away to take a good look at her.

"I missed you too, Kurosaki-kun." She was wearing that same thin, open robe she'd worn the night they made love. Her pale skin was exposed between its collars, drawing his eyes down to the apex of her creamy thighs. He quickly looked back up to her smiling face, fighting down a light blush as he did so.

On the way back up, he glanced the dark bruises on her hip and shoulder through her robe. Now was as good a time as any to ask her about them.

"What's this?" he asked, brushing the collar back over her right shoulder. He knew his face had contorted into a grimace at the sight of that horrible bruise. Orihime's fingers curled into his over robe as she looked away, eyes lidded.

"U-Umm," she stammered, "I-I got kicked by my brother's horse." The weak tone of her voice told Ichigo she was definitely lying. His brows knitted in concern as he reluctantly decided not to press the issue. If she didn't want to talk, she wouldn't. He would just have to find out on his own.

"You need to be more careful, Inoue," he murmured, slipping the rest of her robe off. As much as he wanted to worry about that bruise, her bare body was _very_ distracting. The excited fluttering in his stomach certainly wasn't helping anything either. He wouldn't lay her on her back tonight, either way.

"I will," she said with a warm smile, looping her arms around his neck. Ichigo's worries melted away as she kissed him lightly and began peeling away his robes.

"You lied in your letter, you know," she muttered, eyes cast off to the side as she worked his red overrobe off. Ichigo let her undress him, confused as to what she meant.

"Lied?" he asked, "About what?" He hoped she hadn't realized that Rangiku had told him what to write.

"I don't think your ivory spire is insignificant or disappointing at all," she said with a small grin, "I thought it was very satisfying."

Ichigo was certain he heard that damned blonde laughing somewhere nearby.

* * *

[1] One of the duties of the court's onmyouji were timekeeping. At every quarter of the watch, they would go out into the courtyard, mark the time on a table, strum their bowstrings to ward off any bad spirits, announce the time, and strike the corresponding number of strikes on a gong. The beginning of the seventh watch was roughly noon.

[2] Around 10pm.

[3] Members of the sixth rank wore green robes. Since Rangiku is a higher rank than that, she would find his blatant advances more than a little insulting.

[4] Being noisy with a lady's blinds was considered somewhat crass. Not surprising since Ichigo has no manners!

[5] Naniwazu was the Heian equivalent of the ABCs. It was a small poem used to learn writing:

_Ah, this flower that bloomed  
In the port of Naniwa  
And was hidden in the winter months!  
Now that spring is here  
Once more it blossoms forth._

Rangiku is basically implying that Ichigo is illiterate (which isn't far from the truth).

[6] Menstruating women weren't allowed to share a roof with the Emperor, since they were considered 'impure' by Shinto standards. Hence, Orihime is visiting her brother for the week.

[7] They're well into the fifth month by this point, so an appropriate color would be light blue for both the paper and the flowers.


End file.
